


Brighter

by WingIt



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Arguments, Body Confidence (or lack of), M/M, Minor Yuri Plisetsky/JJ Leroy, Past Minor Victor Nikiforov/Christophe Giacometti, Pining, Post-Canon, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Victor's past, binge eating, sex-related insecurities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 71,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingIt/pseuds/WingIt
Summary: How well does Yuuri really know his fiancé?After a string of silver medals in the Japanese Nationals, Four Continents and World Championships, Yuuri’s move to Russia with his wayward coach/fiancé only heightens his determination to finally get the gold.Meanwhile, after the announcement of his long-awaited comeback Victor is thrust back into the world of crazed fans, obsessive journalists and endless media attention. He seems to love every minute of it, so should Yuuri be worrying as much as he is about the brutal hours of training that Victor keeps imposing on himself? Or is Yuuri’s anxiety playing keep-away with his rationality again?He’d ask Victor, but he seems too busy to notice.





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Ah! Yuuri!”_

Victor’s moan shoots a burning ripple of ecstasy through Yuuri’s veins, heating him from the inside out as he writhes where he lies beneath his coach’s fervent body. He spreads his legs wider, pulling Victor closer still and revels in the intoxicating warmth of his body. The litany of whimpers that fall from Victor’s lips cascade around them, leaving Yuuri breathless and open, and he claws at Victor’s back in a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded.

Victor’s bed in Russia is much more luxurious than anything Yuuri is used to, from the silken sheets and feathered pillows, to the seemingly endless amount of throw cushions that at some point had fallen off the bed during their amorous activities. It’s certainly a far cry from the modest bed that Victor had been given in Hasetsu. Unconsciously, Yuuri tries to make himself as small as possible on the mattress, ashamed of ruining such fine possessions with his own sweat-slick skin.

Given the time of night, the two of them should really have gone to sleep a long while ago but after an extended make-out session, Victor had been insistent and Yuuri, as always, had been unable to deny his lover anything. Sacrificing an hour or two of sleep is worth it if it means making Victor happy.

However, Yuuri imagines he is going to regret thinking that in the morning. Tomorrow marks the first day of Victor and Yuuri’s training in Russia, and Yuuri can’t deny that he is anxious. Working with Victor in his home rink in Hasetsu is one thing, but training alongside Victor and all of his Russian rink mates in the unfamiliar city of St. Petersburg is quite another. Yuuri has grown used to training with only Victor’s eyes on him over the past year, so he can’t help the trickle of unease he feels at the thought of being surrounded by so many strangers.

After Victor had announced his comeback during the Grand Prix Final, there had been a number of debates as to how exactly things were going to work now. At first, Victor had wanted to return to skating in time for the Russian Nationals but Yakov had thrown a fit, yelling that there was no way he’d be able to get back to the necessary impeccable physique _and_ choreograph new routines in time. But Victor had continued to insist that he could do it, so Yakov had changed tactics and instead told him it would be unfair to force such a change on Yuuri just before his own Japanese Nationals. Victor had quickly relented then.

So Victor had remained as Yuuri’s coach for the Japanese Nationals, Four Continents and World Championships, postponing his own comeback for the next Grand Prix Series in October. Yuuri had done well in his subsequent competitions, winning silver in the Japanese Nationals and then silver again twice, losing to JJ in the Four Continents and Yurio at Worlds. Victor had been thrilled with the results, proudly flashing Yuuri’s medals at anyone who’d look, but Yuuri himself isn’t satisfied yet.

Still no gold medal.

It’s April, now. Victor has been eager to get back into his own practice for weeks and with the World Championships now out of the way, there’s nothing to hold them back. So they packed up their lives in Hasetsu and moved to Victor’s hometown. Despite Yuuri’s anxieties he understands that logically, it makes more sense for them both to be in St. Petersburg now. Victor needs to be near Yakov and besides, St. Petersburg has much larger and more enhanced skating facilities than sweet little Hasetsu does.

Yuuri takes a steadying breath to clear his mind of worries for the next day, and turns his attention back to the Russian beauty above him.

He hasn’t exactly confided in Victor about his insecurities for the upcoming season. For one, there hasn’t been enough time to. They only moved their things into Victor’s old apartment four days ago, and a few cardboard boxes are still sitting around here and there waiting to be unpacked. For another, Yuuri knows for a fact that despite Victor’s usual mask of casual cheeriness, he’s concerned about making his own comeback. Victor’s fans, passionate and demanding, have very high expectations of him and Yuuri knows that Victor doesn’t want to disappoint any of them.

So Yuuri tells himself it would simply be unfair to burden Victor with his own issues on top of all that.

Another pleasurable wave rocks Yuuri’s body, and he sinks his teeth into his lip to contain the whine that threatens to spill out. He feels the skin tear, and his cheeks catch fire at the thought of Victor noticing it. He quickly licks away the blood that oozes from the tiny wound to hide the evidence of his lack of self-control. Thank goodness he had insisted on having all of the lights off.

Yuuri trembles under Victor’s touch, allowing him to push the two of them closer to the edge as their bodies rock together. Victor captures Yuuri’s lips in a searing kiss as they finally reach their peaks, gasping against each other’s mouths as they ride out every electrifying sensation that courses through them. For a long moment, they pant together, gentle fingers stroking sweaty skin as they wait for their minds to come back to them.

Victor eventually rolls off and collapses onto his back beside Yuuri, letting out a breathy laugh as he struggles to catch his breath. “You never fail to take my breath away, love.”

Yuuri smiles shyly, carefully avoiding bringing up the fact that Victor had done all of the work. Instead, he reaches for the tissues on the bedside table to clean the two of them up as best as he can, before reaching for his t-shirt and underwear where he’d dropped them onto the floor earlier.

He pretends he doesn’t feel Victor’s eyes on him in the dark as he re-dresses himself. Victor doesn’t comment on it though; it’s nothing new for Yuuri to cover himself up after they’ve been intimate. After being so exposed and vulnerable, Yuuri finds that his clothes act as a protective layer, a thin barrier between his body and the rest of the world.

Only when he feels comfortably concealed does he wriggle over to Victor, curling his body around him as he nestles his face in the crook of Victor’s neck.

Victor presses a sweet kiss to Yuuri’s hair, voice softer this time when he says, “Was it good for you, too, _lyubov moya_?”

Yuuri nods, though he can’t bring himself to actually vocalise his thoughts. Whilst he always greatly enjoys their love-making, he still finds it difficult to really be _open_ with Victor about it, and the idea of verbalising just how pleasurable he’d found their latest escapades makes his entire face boil lobster red.

Victor doesn’t seem to need the spoken clarification though, as he settles himself more comfortably against Yuuri and sighs as his breathing finally begins to even out.

Yuuri, having caught his own breath a couple of minutes ago, can’t help poking fun. “Was the exercise a little too much for you, old man?”

Victor gives an affronted scoff, squeezing Yuuri’s waist and making him squirm. “ _Hey_. Is that any way to speak to your coach?”

Yuuri sniggers, nuzzling his face into the impossibly warm skin of Victor’s neck. “Did you remember to set the alarm?”

“Are you worried I’m losing my memory to age as well, hm? Yes, I set it.”

“Just making sure.” Heaviness begins to tug at his eyelids, and he yawns. “G’night, Victor.”

“Goodnight, Yuuri. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s been a long few days of travelling, packing and sorting so despite not knowing what tomorrow may bring, it doesn’t take long for Yuuri to drift off to sleep. He’s sure in the morning his uncertainties will awaken and return with a vengeance but for now, the gentle feeling of Victor’s chest rising and falling beneath Yuuri’s hand is enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

X

Yuuri reaches for the box of cereal still sitting on the dining table between him and Victor, lifting it up and pouring himself a second bowlful as he takes another large bite of the toast in his other hand. Before he has even finished chewing, he’s plunging his spoon into the cereal and bringing it up to his mouth, appetite still insatiable.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice is gentle, concerned. Yuuri looks up at him where he sits on the other side of the table, slowly working on his own bowl of cornflakes. “Slow down, _krasavets_. You don’t want to be bloated for practice, do you?”

Yuuri’s mouth instantly freezes, eyes wide as he looks down at his breakfast. He’d barely noticed what he’d been piling onto his plate, just blindly reaching out for whatever as he tried to satisfy his seemingly limitless appetite. As he looks at the large amount of cereal he’s already consumed, the half empty plate of toast and the fruit bowl which is now considerably less full than it had been last night, he wonders if he’s gone overboard.

His brain supplies him with memories of when he’d first met Victor, and the positively _delightful_ nickname Victor had gifted him with.

Little piggy.

Yuuri’s cheeks stain with colour, hot and ashamed, and he drops his spoon as though it’s burnt him.

"What did you just call me?” he asks Victor, eyes still trained downwards.

“Hm?”

“When you said to slow down, you called me something in Russian. What was it?”

“I said _krasavets_. It means beautiful. Why?”

Ironic, considering in this moment Yuuri couldn’t feel uglier. He doesn’t say a word.

He hears Victor sigh, and then the chair scrapes back as he stands up. He begins to clear a few breakfast items from the table and carry them over to the sink, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head as he passes him.

“I know you’re feeling nervous about practice today,” Victor says over his shoulder as he turns on the tap. “But really, love, you have nothing to worry about. I’m sure the change of scenery will take some getting used to but everyone will do their best to make you feel welcome. Besides, there won’t be anyone unfamiliar there, just you and me, Yakov, Mila, Georgi and Yurio. Maybe a few other skaters here and there but our rink is mostly reserved for Yakov’s students.”

Yuuri nods, mostly to himself. It’s true, Yuuri has met Yakov, Mila and Georgi a number of times during competitions and whilst they can be intimidating, they’ve never been _mean_ to him exactly. Yuuri can’t deny that he’s looking forward to seeing Yurio as well; despite the teenager’s foul mouth and endless insults, Yuuri likes having him around.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri glances up at Victor, remembering Victor doesn’t actually have eyes on the back of his head. “Uh, sorry. I know, I’m just being silly.”

Victor looks back at him, casting a soft smile his way. “You’re not being silly, my love. I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Yuuri’s heart melts and his mouth tilts up into a smile of his own. Bless Victor for always trying to help. Whilst he’s not exactly great at handling Yuuri’s anxiety, he’s definitely gotten better since witnessing Yuuri’s meltdown at the Cup of China last year. Yuuri doesn’t even mind anymore that Victor isn’t perfect when it comes to emotional support; it’s enough just knowing that Victor cares enough to always try.

Yuuri glances down at his breakfast again, calmer and suddenly feeling far too full to even entertain the idea of finishing all of the food. The portion size looks gigantic to him now, bigger than it had been a few minutes ago despite Yuuri not having added anything to it.

After tidying up the kitchen and packing their skates for a long day at the rink, the two of them leave Victor’s, no, _their_ apartment hand in hand. They set up a brisk pace, using the short journey as an opportunity for exercise since neither of them got up in time for a morning jog. Yuuri’s belly is full and uncomfortable but he powers through regardless, knowing that this is his punishment for allowing his anxiety to control his appetite once again.

But when they round a corner and reach the rink, Yuuri’s stomach begins to churn for an entirely different reason. His feet grow as heavy as lead and he begins to drag them, rapidly slowing his pace until he stops altogether.

A group of men with large, professional cameras are lurking by the entrance of the rink, prowling around like vultures as their eyes dart this way and that.

Yuuri knows exactly who they’re looking for.

Victor doesn’t seem to have noticed them yet; he’s too busy grumbling about Yuuri trying to pull his shoulder out of the socket as he’d been yanked backwards when Yuuri had stopped.

Yuuri ignores him, instead pointing at the group and hissing, “Victor, look.”

Victor glances at the rink and sees the photographers straight away, though his reaction isn’t nearly as surprised as Yuuri expected it to be. “Paparazzi. They must have found out we’re starting training today. What’s the problem?”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot up, taken aback by Victor’s nonchalance. “So they’re gonna see us walking in!”

A little crease forms between Victor’s eyebrows, and he tilts his head. “They won’t do anything besides take a few pictures, Yuuri. They won’t actually be allowed _inside_ the rink.”

“But…” Yuuri stammers, trying and failing to put his thoughts into words. They never had to put up with this sort of thing back in Hasetsu. Whilst Yuuri is used to paparazzi during competitions, his home rink has always been peacefully quiet; residents of Hasetsu are too polite to do anything apart from smile and wish him a good morning as he passes.

St. Petersburg is different though, and Yuuri feels foolish for not seeing this coming. Figure skating is a much bigger deal here. This is the rink that living legend Victor Nikiforov trains at, along with the current World Champion Yuri Plisetsky and the other students of well-renowned coach Yakov Feltsman. Of course there would be paparazzi here.

Victor is still eyeing Yuuri with hesitance written all over his face. Yuuri shakes his head in an attempt to rid his mind of trepidation and shoots what he imagines is an unconvincing smile at Victor. “Sorry, ignore me. Let’s go in.”

Victor doesn’t move though. “Yuuri, you don’t have to answer any of their questions if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do _anything_ if you don’t want to; just pretend they’re not there.”

Yuuri releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and then glances over at the photographers again. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

Victor hums. “I’ll probably answer a question or two. Don’t worry; I won’t make a big show of myself.”

Yuuri is about to respond when the sound of an obnoxious shutter makes him jump, wide eyes flying back to the photographers who have now noticed them and are hurrying over to catch their prey.

“Come on, Yuuri,” Victor says firmly, grasping his hand again and tugging it hard enough to get him to walk again. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Mr Nikiforov! Mr Katsuki!” the photographers yell when the two of them get close enough, swarming around them like bees as Victor drags Yuuri to the entrance.

Victor plasters on a dazzling smile that Yuuri only sees when he’s dealing with the media, and waves to them. “Good morning, gentlemen! How nice of you all to drop by!”

Yuuri refrains from rolling his eyes. ‘ _Nice’_ isn’t exactly how he’d describe the paparazzi’s presence. He’d be more inclined to go for ‘ _a breach of privacy’_ instead.

The photographers use Victor’s acknowledgement of them as an open invitation, attacking him with questions as they push and shove each other to get the best photos.

“Mr Nikiforov, what do you have in store for us for the next season?”

“Mr Nikiforov! How do you plan to take back your crown from Yuri Plisetsky?”

“How does it feel to be competing against your fiancé this season, Mr Nikiforov?”

Those are the only questions that Yuuri could pick up on since they had been spoken in English. The rest are all in rapid Russian, and the meaning is completely lost on him. Thoroughly bewildered, he looks up at Victor for guidance but Victor is too distracted to reassure him.

Yuuri watches as his fiancé brushes aside the paparazzi’s questions with a musical laugh and a casual wave of his hand.

“I’m _very_ happy to be competing against my love this season; he inspires me and he’s given me lots of ideas for new routines. I look forward to sharing them with everyone when the Grand Prix begins. Thank you for your questions!”

At that, Victor winks at one of the cameras, sending the paparazzi into a frenzy, and pulls Yuuri the last few steps towards the doors. Yuuri barely registers the rush of warmth as they cross the threshold and escape the brisk morning air, instead gazing up at his fiancé.

Victor is so _effortless_. Yuuri is always a mess of stuttering words and blushing cheeks whenever he speaks to the paparazzi. How does Victor make it look as though he was born to be in front of a camera? Granted, he’s had several more years’ worth of practice than Yuuri but still, even when he was younger, he flourished under the attention. Yuuri remembers watching Victor’s interviews at Ice Castle with Yuuko when they were teenagers, ogling the long-haired stunner and marvelling at the way he could make everyone around him fall at his feet with merely a smile.

Despite now being Victor’s fiancé, it’s difficult to let go of the fact that Yuuri used to be his number one fan.

Victor turns to Yuuri, the paparazzi behind him already seemingly forgotten, and his eyes light up as he gestures around the empty lobby they now stand in. “Well, this is it!”

Yuuri takes a moment to blink at his surroundings, mouth parting as he tries to absorb it all.

It’s certainly an improvement from the modest entrance and tiny desk area of Ice Castle. Everything about the space is airy and modern, the walls and furniture a spectrum of brilliant whites and cool greys to give a sleek and polished look. It’s huge, too, probably three times the size of Ice Castle, and Yuuri can’t help imagining just how big the rest of the rink is going to be.

“It’s… very impressive,” Yuuri says quietly, cheeks flushing as he realises that _this_ is the sort of place that Victor is used to skating in, and that Ice Castle must have been quite the downgrade for him.

Victor doesn’t notice Yuuri’s embarrassment, or if he does, he doesn’t bring attention to it. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way to the changing rooms.”

Victor skips off, leaving Yuuri to dash after him.

The changing room follows a similar design to the rest of the building, so refined and spotless that Yuuri hardly wants to spoil it with his own mediocre possessions. As they take their skates from their bags and collect what they need for a long morning of training, Yuuri finds himself fidgeting with his clothes and trying to tame his hair into something more presentable. There are going to be a lot of skaters out there, all as elegant and beautiful as the rink they skate in and Yuuri wants to make a good first impression on them.

He can’t help thinking that he isn’t going to fit in.

“Are you ready, Yuuri?”

Victor’s voice cuts through Yuuri’s thoughts, and he twists around to stare wide-eyed at his coach.

Victor is gorgeous, dressed all in black with hands wrapped in fingerless gloves, clutching his skates and a water bottle. His smile is relaxed and his features calm. There’s no doubt that Victor fits right in here. He’s the epitome of athletic beauty and precision, all long legs and lithe muscles, cool and confident. A world away from how Yuuri feels in this moment.

Yuuri gulps and nods.

Victor leads them out of the changing rooms and down a short hallway to their rink. There are a few different rinks in this stadium of varying sizes but it’s likely that they’ll have possession of the largest. He doubts Yakov would settle for anything less than the best for his students.

Victor bursts through the doors to the rink with a beaming smile, drawing everyone’s attention to the two of them as he loudly announces in Russian, “Good morning!”

Most of the skaters all wave in response to Victor and shout back their own greetings. It’s a little crowded in the rink; a few Junior skaters are milling around before their school lessons (most likely with private tutors) begin. Mila and Georgi are stretching together on the benches and Yakov stands to the side, beside two other stern looking men in overcoats who Yuuri guesses to be coaches for the Junior skaters.

Yuuri blindly follows Victor over to Mila and Georgi, eyes trained downwards to avoid the gaze of anyone who may be looking. He knows that nobody is going to care about him when Victor is around to admire, but there will probably be a few people who’ll question what Victor is doing with someone like him.

Mila gives Victor a big hug as Georgi nods at him over Mila’s shoulder. Yuuri only smiles at them, not acquainted with either of the skaters well enough to warrant any sort of physical display of affection.

He sees Yakov approach them before Victor does, and Yuuri’s muscles tense up. Whilst he knows that Yakov isn’t cruel in any way, Yuuri has only ever seen the man when he’s either scowling or scolding someone so he can’t help feeling a little on edge around him. They had shared one awkward hug and a few brief conversations during the Rostelecom cup but aside from that, Yakov is essentially still a stranger.

Yuuri gives him a polite nod, which Yakov returns before turning to Victor.

Victor pulls away from Mila, finally noticing his coach and exclaiming with almost childish excitement, “Yakov!”

Yuuri holds his breath, half expecting Yakov to shoot down Victor’s glee with a frown and a command to hurry up and get on the ice.

He’s more than taken aback when Yakov instead holds both arms out and says in the softest voice Yuuri has ever heard from him, “Vitya.”

Victor jumps into Yakov’s arms, kissing his coach’s cheek as they murmur to each other in Russian. Yuuri can’t tear his eyes away as Yakov sweeps a hand through the back of Victor’s hair before wrapping an arm around his waist again, squeezing him tightly.

Yuuri supposes he shouldn’t be so surprised by their touching reunion. Victor and Yakov seem to be very close; after all, Yakov has been Victor’s coach for as long as Yuuri can remember. Yuuri can’t help but wonder _why_ the two of them are as close as they are, though. How long has Yakov been in Victor’s life, exactly? With the extensive hours of training that Victor has endured for most of his life, it’s likely that Victor spent more time with his coach than with his own parents.

Not that Yuuri really knows anything about Victor’s parents, or his childhood in general.

Yuuri shakes away that last thought and sits down on one of the benches to put his skates on. He starts to fumble with his laces, only to be immediately startled when another pair of skates is unceremoniously tossed onto the floor next to him, knocking against his own and forcing his attention up.

Yurio drops down heavily onto the bench beside him, completely ignoring Yuuri as he pulls off his sneakers with more force than probably necessary.

“Yurio, hi!” Yuuri says with his first genuine smile since entering the rink, grateful to see that familiar, sullen face.

Yurio doesn’t even look up, busying himself with his skates. “I see you finally made it here, pork cutlet bowl.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri and Victor have invited Yurio over for dinner every night since they arrived five days ago, but Yurio has declined every offer. It’s certainly surprising to them both but neither of them have pushed him for a reason why. Teenagers are complicated enough, and the two of them certainly don’t want to aggravate the boy any further.

The two of them sit in silence as they finish lacing up their skates. Yuuri struggles to find something to say; he personally feels as though the two of them have bonded since Yurio’s week-long stay in Hasetsu last year, but Yurio doesn’t seem much interested in conversation this morning. Is he mad to be having to share his rink with his rival now?

“Hey,” Yuuri finally says, looking sideways at Yurio with a hesitant smile. “Congratulations again for winning gold at Worlds.”

Yurio grunts, fishing around in his bag and pulling out a pair of earphones. “Well, it was the least I could do to stop you from retiring.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline, and he opens his mouth to speak when Yurio grumbles and hurries to correct himself.

“Not that I care if you retire or not.”

At that, Yurio stands up and stomps off towards the rink. A smile lingers on Yuuri’s face though. As much as he finds Yurio’s petulance endearing, it’s nice when he slips up sometimes and admits his true feelings. Since Yurio had refused to come and visit Yuuri this week, Yuuri had worried that all of the progress he’s made with the boy had for some reason been undone. It’s reassuring to know that Yurio still cares, even if it’s just a little bit.

Victor, who has finished catching up with Yakov, intercepts Yurio on his way to the ice. Yurio has already turned on his music and doesn’t see Victor approach, which Victor takes full advantage of by sneaking over and sweeping him up into a _very_ unwanted hug.

“ _Agh!”_ Yurio yelps, skates lifted a couple of inches off the ground by the sheer force of Victor’s love. “What the…? Get _off_ me!”

Victor completely ignores Yurio’s squirming. “I missed you, Yurio! Did you miss me, too?”

“You’re _disgusting_ , get off me right now before I _skate over your throat!”_

Victor finally drops Yurio, but not before pressing an overenthusiastic kiss to the top of his head. Yurio scowls, stumbling for a second as he tries to regain his balance and spitting what Yuuri can only imagine are Russian curse words before hurrying onto the ice.

Victor only laughs at Yurio’s tantrum, turning to Yakov and asking, “Has he grown? He seems taller.”

Yakov nods. “By a few inches. Still tiny, though.”

“I must say,” Victor says as he glances over at Yurio who is now skating fast, furious laps around the rink. “I thought he’d be happier to see us back.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Mila says, stretching one leg behind her at a perfect ninety degree angle. “Yuratchka’s been acting weird since Worlds.”

Yuuri frowns, his own eyes now following Yurio as he asks, “Why?”

Mila shrugs. “I’ve tried asking him, but he won’t say.”

Yuuri catches Victor’s eye, and they share a meaningful look. Whilst it’s nothing new for Yurio to retreat into himself and act out aggressively, the fact that it’s been going on for weeks could be a cause for concern.

“Right, enough chit-chat,” Yakov grumbles. “Mila, Georgi, get on the ice. Vitya, make sure you stretch properly first.”

Victor nods at his coach, admiration shining clear in his eyes. He then turns to Yuuri, beams and says, “Yuuri, make sure you stretch properly first!”

X

Since Victor is both coaching Yuuri and practising for his own comeback, the two of them had to go over with Yakov just how Victor is going to divide his time now. They agreed for Yakov to train Victor during a designated time slot in the morning, leaving the rest of the afternoon for Victor to coach Yuuri. Yakov had said he’d only give Victor a few hours of his time a day; Victor doesn’t _technically_ need much coaching due to his experience and the fact that he produces and choreographs all of his routines, but given his year-long break, Yakov needs to be around to help whip him back into shape.

Yakov had also said that he refuses to spend unnecessary time on a skater who pointedly never listens to him. Victor had smirked at that, insisting that he had no idea what Yakov was talking about.

So that’s how the morning passes. Victor tells Yuuri to work on his quads whilst he’s busy with Yakov, and Yuuri keeps to himself on one side of the rink. Yurio has gone next door to the ballet studio with Lilia but Mila and Georgi are around, though Yuuri barely says two words to them. Since he’s the newcomer, he doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes or get in the way.

The main source of noise in the rink, louder than the sound of blades cutting through clean ice, is Yakov endlessly telling off Victor. When they reach mid-morning and Yuuri stops for a water break, he spends five minutes watching Victor from the side-lines with a faint smile on his face.

Yakov has been making Victor go over every spin and every jump, just to get an idea of how Victor’s ability has changed in the last year and what he should be focusing on. It’s fascinating to see Victor this way. In the whole time Yuuri has known him on a personal level, he’s only ever seen Victor in coaching mode on the ice. This is completely different though, being able to see him practice like the other skaters. Yuuri has seen video clips of Victor’s training on news segments and social media but to be able to actually see it in person is a rare treat. Victor is even more flighty and carefree than Yuuri had expected. He ignores probably eighty percent of the things that Yakov tells him, gliding around in his own little world as Yakov shouts himself purple from the side-lines.

“Triple axel!” Yakov orders next.

Victor nods and skates away to build up enough speed, before launching into a perfect… quadruple flip. Yuuri sniggers as Yakov smacks the barrier with a gloved hand, face reddening as he once again begins to yell.

“ _Vitya!_ Do you want me to coach you or not?!”

Victor at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Yes, Yakov!”

“Then for God’s sake, _do as I say for once!”_

Yuuri watches long enough to see Victor finally land the triple axel Yakov asked for. Victor seems to over-rotate a small amount but he disguises it well, regaining his balance quick enough for anyone to really notice the mistake and skating away again. Yuuri goes back to practising his quad toe loop, choosing not to draw attention to Victor’s tiny error for the sake of his pride.

At one o’clock, the skaters are dismissed for lunch. Yuuri follows the group to the cafeteria, the five of them sitting at the same table once they’ve collected their meals. Yuuri sits where he feels most comfortable; beside Victor and opposite Yurio. Everyone chatters away as they begin to tuck into their meals, but they’re quickly disturbed by Yakov who marches over to their table with a small, plastic tub in his hand. When he reaches them, he silently picks up Victor’s lunch tray and replaces it with the tub, which on closer inspection, looks to be a little portion of plain, chicken salad.

“What’s this?” Victor asks, staring down in distain at the uninspiring meal before him.

“Your lunch,” Yakov snaps. “I’m putting you on a diet, as of today. You may have let yourself go while you were coaching but I’m not going to stand for it now that you’re back under my training.”

Victor gapes at him, placing a hand on his stomach and staring down at himself. “Wha… ‘let myself go’?”

“Yes. I can’t have you eating like you did in Japan, not if you want any chance of winning gold again.”

“Ha!” Yurio says, mouth already full as he points his fork at Victor. “Who’s the little piggy now?”

Victor doesn’t say a word, head dipped as the hand on his stomach tightens into a fist. Yuuri inches closer, placing a hand on Victor’s thigh and squeezing.

Yakov ignores Yurio and goes on, “We’re going to step up your training, too. From what I’ve seen this morning it’s clear you’ve fallen behind. You’re still good, don’t get me wrong, but if you ever want to win gold again then we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“I…” Victor’s voice is quiet. “I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“You’re not bad at all. But you can’t come back after a year break and expect to immediately be on top of the podium. Anyone would have to work their way back up, even _you_ , Vitya.”

Victor gives a non-committal nod. Yakov sighs, and then tells the rest of the skaters that they’re allowed up to forty-five minutes for a break before he expects to see them all back out on the ice.

Victor still doesn’t look up from his lap even when Yakov leaves. Yuuri shoots Yurio a warning glare to stop him making some kind of comment, and then takes his hand away from Victor’s thigh to rub his stomach instead. Victor may have lost a little bit of muscle tone in the last year but he isn’t overweight in the slightest, and Yuuri isn’t going to let him believe he’s anything less than perfect.

Yuuri drops a kiss to Victor’s shoulder, and Victor sighs in response. “It’s fine, Yuuri. I should’ve expected that.”

Yuuri nods. He’s no stranger to a harsh coach himself, so he understands. Yakov’s approach to teaching is the reason he’s managed to raise so many world champions. But it hurts to see his lover look defeated, and Yuuri can’t help wanting to comfort him.

Victor gently pulls away just enough to give Yuuri a sad smile, and then picks up his fork to begin his new lunch. Yuuri watches him for a long moment, residing himself to the fact that he isn’t going to get anything else from Victor now. He gives Victor a parting kiss on the cheek before sitting up straighter to eat.

Georgi sighs wistfully from the other side of the table, head resting on one hand as he stares at the two of them. “Is there anything more pure than a new relationship?”

“How about anything and everything else in the world?” Yurio spits, looking at the two of them with disgust. “This is a place for _eating_ , stop making me wanna throw up my lunch.”

Victor perks up marginally at the opportunity to tease the teen, smirking and saying, “Do you not like public displays of affection, Yurio? That’s a shame, because Yuuri and I _love_ them…”

He slides both hands around Yuuri’s waist and begins to nuzzle his neck, making Yuuri blush and Yurio snap, “Get a room, old man!”

Yuuri slaps a hand over Victor’s mouth to stop him winding up Yurio any further.

The five of them eat their lunch in companionable silence, all too hungry after hours of training to even consider dragging their attention away from their meals. Victor is the first to finish (Yuuri’s stomach aches in sympathy since Victor is probably still going to be hungry) and once he’s downed his water, he stands up to leave.

Yuuri frowns up at him, taking hold of his arm to stop him walking away. “Where’re you going?”

“Back to the rink.”

Yuuri glances at the clock on the wall behind Victor’s head. “It’s barely been fifteen minutes; you need a longer break than that!”

Victor only smiles, pulling Yuuri’s hand off his arm and squeezing it. “I’ve had enough of a break, love. I’ll just use the extra time to practise a little more before I start coaching you this afternoon.”

Yuuri tries to protest but Victor is already gone, bounding off towards the doors and pushing through them with a flourish.

He sighs, shoulders slumping as he stabs at his food with his fork. He startles at the feeling of a hand on his bicep, looking up with see Mila reaching across Victor’s empty seat to pat him.

“Don’t sulk, Yuuri!” she says in heavily accented English. “Victor’s used to Yakov being like that.”

Yuuri gives her a grateful smile. “I know. I just wish he’d given himself a longer break.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Georgi says with a wave of his hand. “Victor is desensitised to ruthless training; probably from living with Yakov for so long.”

Yuuri frowns, now forgetting his lunch altogether. “Living with?”

Mila and Georgi share a glance of surprise.

“Yes, you didn’t know?” Mila asks. “Victor lived with Yakov for most of his teenage years, I think.”

“Oh.”

No, Yuuri did _not_ know that. Victor has always been rather secretive about his life before he met Yuuri and Yuuri is mostly okay with that; Victor will be honest with him when he is ready to and Yuuri would never push him. But the fact that Yakov had been Victor’s primary caregiver for such a large portion of his life seems like something important, and Yuuri is a little hurt that Victor never mentioned it.

Yuuri goes quiet again, mind swarming with a hundred new thoughts. Why would Victor keep something like that from him? Does he not want Yuuri to know for some reason? Does he not _care_ enough to tell Yuuri himself?

Opposite him, Yurio drops his fork onto his plate with a clatter and kicks his chair back. “On that note, I’m going back, too. I can practically _hear_ Katsudon stressing.”

Yuuri barely registers him leaving. He hears Mila mumble something about angsty teenagers and then she and Georgi start to speak to each other in Russian, effectively shutting Yuuri out of the conversation. He finds that he doesn’t really mind; he’s probably not much company right now anyway.

X

Victor and Yuuri end up being the last skaters at the rink. It’s getting late, the setting sun casting shadows on the side-lines and leaving everywhere but the ice in a state of dimness. The ice seems to thrive under the attention of light, the surface of it still gleaming and glistening despite the endless scratches left by the blades of several sets of skates.

Everybody else went home almost two hours ago, leaving the two of them alone. Yuuri had been ready to leave with the others but Victor had given him puppy eyes and begged him to stay for just a _tiny_ bit longer and well, Yuuri can never resist that look even if he tries.

But now, with his stomach crying out for dinner and a heavy ache in his muscles from too many hours of use, Yuuri is beginning to regret being such a pushover. He leans against the barrier, fiddling with his now empty water bottle as he watches Victor launch into a quadruple salchow, triple toe loop combination for what feels like the fiftieth time. Yuuri rolls his eyes. Victor executes the jumps as perfectly as he’s always done them, so _why_ won’t he stop doing them?

Yuuri huffs and takes advantage of the short window of time when Victor isn’t moving, whining, “Victor! Are you ready to go home?”

Victor glances up at him as he skates back to his starting position, and shoots Yuuri a sheepish smile. “Almost, my love. Just one more time, please?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes again – any politeness he once had had left with the other skaters at six o’clock. “Victor, it’s late. We both need some dinner and Makkachin has been alone all day.”

Victor’s shoulders droop, and Yuuri knows that he’s won. Victor skates over to him like a child whose been dragged away from their favourite toy. Yuuri fixes him with a steely look and hands Victor his own water bottle.

“Your jumps are flawless, Victor,” Yuuri says, watching Victor’s Adam’s apple dip as he drinks. “Why are you pushing yourself so hard today?”

Victor only shrugs. “I’m not pushing myself _that_ hard. I used to train this late all the time before I came to coach you.”

That may well be true, but Yuuri is positive he knows the reason for Victor’s reluctance to stop today. “Is this because of what Yakov said at lunch?”

Victor visibly tenses. “No.”

Yuuri is thoroughly unconvinced. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Victor skates away before Yuuri can question him any further, stepping off the ice and calling back, “What do you fancy for dinner tonight? I’m thinking noodles!”

Yuuri sighs, but decides to let the conversation drop. Victor is extremely slippery when he wants to be and if he’s already made up his mind about something, there’s not much more that Yuuri can do to change it. He follows Victor off the ice, collapsing onto the bench and carefully pulling his skates off as to not disturb the blisters he can already feel forming on his feet.

It’s been a hectic day. Between dealing with the paparazzi this morning, Yurio being even more grouchy than usual, Yakov’s endless yelling and Victor wanting to stay so late, Yuuri is ready to all but dive into bed as soon as they get home and not resurface for at least twelve hours.

After packing up their skates, Yuuri follows Victor back to the changing rooms as he hides a wide yawn behind his hand.

Is this how it’s going to be _every_ day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally started my first Yuri on Ice fic! I've had ideas building for this since the start of December so I'm very pleased it's now underway!
> 
> I'm still not sure how long this'll be but my guesstimation is anywhere between 8 and 15 chapters (we'll see how carried away I get).
> 
> Just a quick note about Yurio since I know his age can be a sensitive topic for some; in this story he is sixteen, which is the age of consent in my country and in Russia. He won't have sex with anyone in this fic but the topic of sex will be brought up around him as he matures. He gets curious sometimes and he does have questions - just like most teenagers!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! Any kudos, comments or feedback would mean a lot to me! 
> 
> Also here's a [link to my tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/) in case anyone wants to scream about victuuri with me! I'm always available for that ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We’re just a little concerned,” Yuuri says gently. “Mila says she tried to talk to you a while ago but you shut her down. If something happened to you or if you’re having anxieties about something then we can help you–”
> 
> Yurio snaps his head up at that. “Why would you assume that something happened to me?”

Yuuri all but collapses onto the couch on Thursday evening, ignoring his aching and overworked muscles as they scream at him in the process. With a sigh that turns into a wide yawn, he pulls his feet up and rubs one absently with both hands, eyes drifting over to where Victor sits on the other side of the couch. He’s curled up against the armrest, phone in hand and engrossed in whatever he’s reading. Yuuri’s eyes begin to wander, falling down Victor’s rumpled shirt and sweatpants to his bare feet that are tucked up next to him, already scratched and bruised from a relentless few days of training.

It’s been barely a week since the two of them began their practice in St. Petersburg, and Yuuri is already starting to wonder if his body is physically capable of lasting until October under the frankly _harsh_ regimen that Yakov and by extension Victor have set. Yakov is trying to get Victor back to the same standard he’d been at during his fifth consecutive Grand Prix win, and since Victor has gotten into the habit of copying whatever his coach says, poor Yuuri is being made to suffer as well.

At the end of every day Yuuri only has enough energy to wolf down dinner and then veg out in front of the TV before heading to bed early. He doesn’t particularly mind; after all, this is the only way he’ll stand a chance of winning a gold medal this year, but he certainly has worries about how his and Victor’s bodies are going to hold up.

“Oh!” Victor suddenly says, face brightening as he smiles down at his phone. “Chris is going to compete in the Grand Prix this year!”

“He is?” Yuuri responds with a small smile of his own. Chris had decided not to compete in the World Championships this year after expressing an interest in retiring during the last Grand Prix Final.

“Yeah, he just texted me. He says he’s returning for one last season for the sole purpose of kicking my ass.”

Yuuri laughs. “It’s not surprising; he was pining for you during all of last year’s Grand Prix.”

“I’m glad he’s coming back. It would’ve been strange to compete without him.”

Yuuri watches fondly as Victor smiles at the screen, tapping out his response. He’d certainly been unsure of Chris to begin with (the butt grope at the Cup of China had been a little out of his comfort zone), but after spending more time with him and seeing how fond Victor is of him, Yuuri has grown to like Chris.

Victor’s phone gives another quiet vibrate, signalling a reply from Chris.

“Oh, he wants to FaceTime,” Victor says, sitting up straighter and adjusting his hair. Yuuri just nods and settles against the couch cushions, turning his attention to Makkachin when he pads over and demands to be pet.

Victor’s phone starts to ring, and he holds it up in front of his face as the call connects.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri sees Chris’ face appear on the screen. Victor holds a hand up in a wave and says brightly, “Hi!”

“Good evening, pretty,” Chris purrs, voice sounding even deeper than usual through the tinny phone speakers. “How’s my favourite skater?”

“You surely can’t be talking about me,” Victor teases.

“Hm, you’re right. My favourite skater is, of course, myself.”

Victor laughs, and Yuuri’s heart swells at the sound. “You have no idea how comforting it is to know that there’s a figure skater who has a bigger ego than I do. It really takes the pressure off.”

Chris winks. “You’re welcome.”

“So,” Victor says, eyebrow arched. “You really think you can beat me this year?”

“Oh, yes. This will be my final Grand Prix and I’m planning on going out with a bang. Are you sure you’ll be able to keep up with me, Coach Victor?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, it’s _always_ a challenge when it comes to you. Want to make this interesting?”

Victor huffs out a laugh. “What do you suggest?”

“Whoever scores lower lets the winner take control of their phone for a day. Nothing’s off limits; texts, social media, you name it.”

Victor smirks. “Deal. Prepare to lose all your Twitter and Instagram followers then.”

Chris only hums, shooting Victor a half-smile with his eyes half-lidded. “I’ve been missing you, doll. Thinking about you.”

“Yuuri’s here,” Victor says, ignoring Chris’ words and turning the phone to point at Yuuri instead. Yuuri frowns, thinking it’s an odd moment to suddenly introduce him into the conversation but smiling nevertheless when Chris sees him.

“Hello,” he says, waving politely.

“Yuuri!” Chris’ features stretch into a smirk. “There’s my sexy dance partner! I must say, my pole has been feeling lonely without you…”

A rush of crimson fills Yuuri’s cheeks and he hides his face behind his hands, much to the amusement of Victor and Chris.

“Aw, c’mon, Yuuri, don’t be like that!” Chris taunts. “Victor, get a few glasses of champagne down him, that’ll soon change his mind.”

“Oh, I could never take advantage of my student like that,” Victor says. “But my _fiancé_ , however…”

Yuuri stops him from finishing that sentence by launching a couch cushion directly at his face, making Victor squawk as he scrabbles to keep hold of his phone.

Chris laughs again as he looks between the two of them. “So how are you two lovebirds?”

“We’re very well,” Victor says, smiling softly at Yuuri and winking.

Chris goes on. “You’re still getting along well? Sharing the domestic responsibilities equally? Making love often?”

Yuuri feels his blush spread down his neck and to the tips of his ears, hot and embarrassed. He hides behind his hands again and whines quietly, “ _Victor.”_

Victor laughs again but takes pity on him, leaning over to rub his thigh as he says to Chris, “Leave Yuuri alone, he’s shy.”

“I’ll just take that as a ‘yes’ to all of my questions,” Chris says with a deliberate wink.

“Oh, hey,” Victor says, changing the subject which Yuuri is grateful for. He waggles his eyebrows, suggestive and teasing. “Speaking of lovebirds, how are you and Luca?”

The effect on Chris is immediate, his features softening as he sighs wistfully. “We’re wonderful. _He’s_ wonderful.”

“I still can’t believe you’re _actually_ in a committed relationship with someone now.”

Chris had kept his new boyfriend very private during last year’s Grand Prix, but given that he’s not exactly the most subtle person, he hadn’t done a very good job of hiding the evidence. The unknown man had constantly been in the Kiss & Cry and around the rink, as well as in the background of most of Chris’ Instagram photos. It’d led many of the other skaters to put on their detective hats in order to solve the case of Chris’ Mystery Man, and it’d certainly been one of the main topics of discussion at the banquet.

“I can hardly believe it myself either, sometimes,” Chris admits. “Luca is so different from anyone I’ve ever dated. Now I understand why you and Yuuri look at each other the way you do.”

“It’s quite funny, isn’t it?” Victor says with a soft smile. “Who’d have thought we’d both be coupled off before we’re thirty?”

Chris’ face suddenly twists up into his usual smirk. “Remember our pact?”

“What pact?” Yuuri asks.

Victor rolls his eyes. “It was a dumb pact.”

“Victor, I’m hurt!” Chris says with a hand clutched to his chest, scandalised. “We agreed if neither of us were married by the time I hit forty, we’d just marry each other.”

Victor glances at Yuuri with an apologetic look in his eyes as though he’s expecting Yuuri to be mad, but Yuuri brushes it off. “Oh, you were each other’s safety husband! Phichit suggested that once when we were in college.”

“See, Victor?” Chris exclaims. “I told you everyone did it!”

X

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s eyes flutter open, fighting sleep as he tilts his face towards Victor. “Mm?”

It’s late, the apartment silent apart from the frequent, gentle puffs of Makkachin’s breath at the foot of the bed. Yuuri and Victor lie curled up around each other, tired but sated after a round of sex and both ready to slip off to sleep. Victor is still naked; his radiating body heat doing an excellent job of lulling Yuuri off to dreamland but Yuuri is fully clothed, as per usual after they’re intimate.

“You know that…” Victor shifts where he lies pressed up against him, face nestled in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. “When we have sex… you don’t have to hold anything back, right?”

Yuuri tenses. “Huh?”

“Is it the neighbours?” Victor lifts his head up to stare at Yuuri, eyes still bright despite the darkness in the room. “I know we had to be quiet in Hasetsu with those paper thin walls, but it’s really not a problem here. Nobody can hear us.”

Yuuri stares at Victor for several long seconds, trying to find some sort of answer in his piercing blue eyes. When he finally realises the implication of Victor’s words, he blushes.

Victor is referring to the way Yuuri, without fail, always keeps his mouth clamped shut when they make love. It’s not that Yuuri isn’t _enjoying_ himself, because he always is, it’s just that whenever any kind of moan or sigh climbs up his throat he flounders and does everything in his power to swallow it back down.

He isn’t completely sure _why_ he does it. He loves and adores Victor with all of his being, and Victor is always able to make Yuuri feel good under the sheets. But when it comes to actually vocalising his pleasure… Yuuri just chokes. He _wants_ to show Victor how good he’s making him feel but the thought of having to look Victor in the eye afterwards makes Yuuri flush all kinds of red. Being so intimate, so _exposed_ with another person is still something very unfamiliar to Yuuri, and his lack of self-confidence prevents him from expressing himself.

It’s probably also the reason why Yuuri puts his clothes back on after sex, and will only be intimate if they turn all of the lights off. Victor is more experienced, more attractive, more _confident_ than he is, and in a way it makes Yuuri want to hide from him.

He doesn’t want Victor to realise just how much better he is than Yuuri, and Yuuri finds that casting a blanket of darkness over the room and covering himself up afterwards shields him and his imperfections, in a way.

Victor is still staring at him, thumb sweeping across Yuuri’s hip. Yuuri cards a hand through Victor’s silky smooth hair and forces a smile. “Yeah, the walls in Hasetsu were pretty bad, weren’t they?”

Victor huffs in amusement, though his gaze remains firm. He’s still waiting for Yuuri to answer him properly.

Yuuri hesitates. Victor thinks Yuuri is quiet during sex because he’s worried about the neighbours hearing them. That’s not exactly true, but Yuuri can’t help thinking that that’s a _far_ simpler explanation than his complex insecurities.

So Yuuri swallows his nerve and says, “I suppose I’m just used to biting my lip after living back at home. Will the neighbours really not hear?”

Victor shakes his head. “Nope. We’re completely safe.”

Yuuri just nods, snuggling closer to Victor and gently pulling him back down to rest against his shoulder. “Okay.”

Victor seems satisfied, and settles down to sleep with a content sigh. Away from the scrutiny of those sapphire eyes, Yuuri allows himself to frown. He’s managed to pacify Victor for the time being, but what’s going to happen the next time they make love, when Victor is expecting Yuuri to be more vocal? What if Yuuri can’t bring himself to do it?

Long after Victor has fallen asleep, Yuuri remains plagued by his own swirling thoughts. His lack of confidence in bed is not something that can be solved overnight and Yuuri doubts this is the last time they’ll have a conversation like this. But with a hundred other things for them to worry about right now, like their preparations for the new season, Yuuri decides that this particular issue just doesn’t deserve their attention. Not now.

He knows it’s not healthy to sweep his worries under the rug this way, but he still goes ahead and does it anyway.

X

Yuuri has always been aware that Yurio is a rather volatile teenager. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course; it’s a key aspect of his personality that’s only been intensified by the raging hormones that puberty brings. Yuuri and Victor still love him regardless, and would never want to change who Yurio is as a person.

That being said, the teenager has been noticeably _more_ volatile as of late. Yuuri and Victor have both picked up on it in the short time they’ve been living in Russia, and the others at the rink have also brought it up a number of times already. Yurio is not only snapping at anyone who tries to say a kind word to him, but he’s also spending a lot of time, more than usual, by himself. Yuuri imagines that Yurio is spending his solitary time brooding, but what _about_ exactly, Yuuri couldn’t say.

None of them besides Mila have asked Yurio outright if there’s some kind of problem, and she’d been met with a particularly blunt denial to talk along with a smattering of curse words. The rest of them took this as a sign to avoid the topic with Yurio altogether, but that doesn’t stop Yuuri from worrying about the boy.

During Saturday morning’s practice whilst Victor is engaged in conversation with Yakov, Yuuri takes a five minute water break. He leans against the barrier, bottle in hand, and absently watches the other skaters out on the ice. Very quickly though, he finds himself drawn to Yurio and ignores Mila and Georgi in favour of watching the teenager instead.

Yurio is lost in his own world, unaware of anyone around him as he tries to land a quadruple flip. It’s the only jump that Yuuri has seen Yurio have any kind of difficulty with, and he’s still flubbing the jump more often than not.

It’s no surprise, really; the quad flip is notoriously tricky and many skaters fail to land it at all during their careers. Yuuri has _kind_ of mastered the jump but even he doesn’t land it correctly every time.

Yuuri frowns as Yurio falls again, unable to look away as Yurio yells some kind of Russian curse and kicks at the ice, face contorted with unabashed anger. Yurio is used to succeeding so it’s understandable for him to be a little frustrated with the jump, but the way he practically throws a tantrum each time he falls is a little melodramatic.

Yuuri wonders why the jump is making Yurio so mad.

Yakov hears Yurio too, and glances over Victor’s shoulder to shout at him, “Yuri! Take a break; I will not have you kicking holes in my rink!”

Yurio stands rooted to the spot for several seconds, grumbling to himself, before relenting under the blaze of Yakov’s glare. He skates to the edge and stomps off the rink, slumping down on one of the benches and staring down at his lap.

Yuuri doesn’t approach him. He instead glances at Victor to find his eyes also locked on Yurio, ignoring whatever it is that Yakov is saying to him. As though he can sense Yuuri’s gaze, Victor looks up and raises a curious eyebrow. Yuuri only nods at him, and Victor returns the gesture before he’s scolded by Yakov for not listening.

Yuuri casts one last look back at Yurio as he sets down his water bottle and pushes away from the side, gliding back out onto the ice. He’s all for giving the boy space and everything, but it seems as though it’s finally time to be a bit more direct.

X

It’s only Yuuri, Victor and Yurio at the lunch table that day. Mila had chosen to stay on the rink for an extra half an hour and have lunch later, and Georgi had left to take a phone call. It’s the perfect time for Yuuri and Victor to bring up their concerns.

Yurio is quiet, picking at his food and eating in small mouthfuls. Yuuri and Victor have spent the past five minutes trading secret glances and mouthing words at each other, debating how to bring up such a topic. After Yuuri mimes the same thing for the eighth time, trying and failing to get Victor to understand what he means, Victor gives up and rolls his eyes, turning to Yurio.

“So!” he says, voice overly cheery as he fakes nonchalance. “How are things with you, Yurio?”

Yurio looks at Victor as if he’s just grown an extra head. “What?”

Victor gives him an innocent, thoroughly unconvincing smile. “Am I not allowed to ask how our favourite moody teenager is every now and then?”

_“No.”_

Yuuri quickly intervenes, all too aware of Victor’s history of winding up the teen. “We only ask because you’ve been a little… short-tempered during practice lately.”

“I’m always short-tempered,” Yurio deadpans.

“Well, yes, but…” Yuuri hesitates, trying to be delicate in his wording. “M-more so than usual.”

“Maybe take that as a hint that I want to be left alone, then.”

“Yurio, you’ve denied _all_ of our invitations to come for dinner since we arrived,” Victor complains. “You really don’t want to hang out with us and eat all of our food for free? We’re going to start getting offended!”

Yurio only grunts at that, choosing to ignore them in favour of staring down at his plate.

“We’re not trying to irritate you. We’re just a little concerned,” Yuuri says gently. “Mila says she tried to talk to you a while ago but you shut her down. If something happened to you or if you’re having anxieties about something then we can help you–”

Yurio snaps his head up at that. “Why would you assume that something happened to me?”

Yuuri blinks like a rabbit caught in headlights. “W-well, I just thought that… maybe…”

Yurio cuts him off. “ _Nothing_ happened to me. Just leave it alone.”

Victor raises both hands as a sign of surrender, giving an airy laugh as he says to Yuuri, “It seems we’ve lost this one, my love.”

Yuuri gives up; despite having a hundred more things he wants to say he knows that prodding Yurio is certainly not going to get him to open up. The boy is even more stubborn than Victor is.

The three of them return to their meals, a silence bordering on awkward forming over their table.

Yuuri catches Victor’s eye, his brow creased as he looks at his fiancé sadly. Yurio often manages to ignite protective instincts within Yuuri and Yuuri just wants to _help_ him, whatever the issue is. He hates being unable to do anything.

Victor looks back at him sympathetically and rubs his back. Then, with the other hand Victor reaches over the table and taps on Yurio’s lunch tray in a silent request for his attention. Yurio’s eyes flicker up to him, questioning and confused.

“In all seriousness, baby,” Victor says to him, voice softer than it’d been a minute ago. “If there _is_ something bothering you then you know you can always talk to us.”

For a long moment, Yurio’s gaze darts from Victor to Yuuri, eyes piercing as though he’s waiting for one of them to laugh and announce they were just joking. His Adam’s apple dips the tiniest amount as he swallows around nothing, a subtle but sure sign of unease.

Eventually, Yurio lets his head drop and glares down at the table instead, grumbling at Victor, “Why would I tell you anything, moron?”

Victor rolls his eyes and sighs theatrically, turning to Yuuri and whining, “And here I was, thinking I’d raised the boy to have good manners! Apparently I was wrong.”

“Shut up,” Yurio snaps. “You did not _raise_ me.”

Victor just shrugs, shooting Yurio one last gentle smile before picking up his fork again. Yuuri watches out of the corner of his eye as Yurio evaluates Victor, still with that strange look in his eyes as though he doesn’t quite believe what has been said to him.

Yuuri nearly drops his fork in surprise when Yurio mumbles, almost too quietly to even be heard, “Thanks, I guess.”

Victor’s head shoots up again, eyes wide before his face splits into a wide grin. “You’re very welcome, Yurio!”

Yurio huffs, pushing himself to his feet and picking up his lunch tray. “That is _not_ my name.”

At that, the teenager stalks off. Yuuri and Victor both release a long breath as they watch him leave.

“That could’ve gone much worse,” Victor says.

Yuuri agrees. Whilst Yurio hadn’t actually told them what his issue is, or if there is even an issue at all, he seemed to at least understand that Yuuri and Victor are here for him should he ever want to talk. There’s no telling how long it’ll take for Yurio to approach either of them, but today has certainly felt like a step in the right direction.

“He was very defensive when I mentioned if something might have happened to him,” Yuuri says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Do you think there might actually be something going on?”

Victor sighs. “I have no idea. Whatever it is, I just hope it’s nothing too bad. Or illegal.”

Yuuri doesn’t respond, too busy gazing at the door that Yurio disappeared through. A hand snakes around his waist, making him turn his head as Victor pulls him closer.

“Try not to worry too much, my love,” Victor mumbles, kissing Yuuri’s shoulder. “If it really was something serious, he’d tell us.”

Yuuri looks up at him, desperately seeking reassurance. “You think?”

“Of course. We just need to have faith in our little _kotyonok_.”

Yuuri hums, tilting his head. “What does that word mean?”

“Kitten. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

Yuuri nods and smiles. “It does. It’s cute.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Victor asks, frowning gently. “I don’t want to leave you worrying.”

“Leave me?” Yuuri repeats, looking over his shoulder at the clock. They’re barely half way through their lunch break.

“Well…” Victor’s eyes flicker over to the clock as well. “I was just going to head back to the rink to –”

“No,” Yuuri interrupts firmly. Almost every day Victor has been cutting his lunch breaks short just to go out and practice longer, and it’s starting to irritate him. “You need a decent break, Victor.”

“But…” Victor flashes him the puppy eyes. “I just need to –”

 _“No._ It’s not fair on your body; you’ll do yourself an injury if you overwork yourself.”

Victor is still looking torn, eyes darting from the clock to Yuuri as he silently pleads with him.

Yuuri decides to play dirty, turning his head to the side and sighing. “But if it’s _that_ much trouble to keep me company for a little while then you might as well just _go_.”

Even without looking at him, Yuuri can sense the way Victor’s entire face drops. Within half a second Victor is all over him, tugging him closer and pressing kisses over his cheek.

 _“Yuuri,”_ he whines. “I didn’t mean it like that! Of course I want to keep you company!”

Yuuri suppresses his smirk, letting Victor suffer for just a little longer. “Are you sure?”

 _“Yes_. I love you, please forgive me!”

Yuuri’s resolve cracks and he smiles as he lets Victor pull him in for a kiss. The cafeteria is mostly deserted at this point so he feels comfortable enough to enjoy the tender moment with his fiancé, pressing several soft kisses to his lips before pulling away with a giggle.

The two of them spend the rest of their lunchtime alone, chatting quietly and holding hands under the table.

Yuuri tries to pretend he doesn’t notice the way Victor sneaks glances at the clock every other minute.

X

Yuuri is feeling good by the time six o’clock rolls around. He’s had a very successful afternoon of practice, he’s managed to convince Victor to leave the rink at a reasonable time, and there’s leftover miso soup in the fridge for the two of them to eat when they get home. It’s a very satisfying end to the day, and Yuuri finds himself humming as he collects his things from his locker.

“I’m just going to get a soda from the vending machine,” Yuuri calls to Victor who’s next door having a quick shower.

“Okay!” Victor shouts back, voice muffled by the gentle sound of falling water. “I’ll meet you in the lobby!”

Yuuri slings his bag over his shoulder and heads out of the changing room, only to immediately slam straight into another person who’d been right on the other side of the door.

The collision doesn’t knock either of them over but it does manage to send the other person’s bag clattering to the floor, the items inside spilling out and making a mess in the corridor.

“Sorry, sorry!” Yuuri flusters, heart jumping when he sees that it’s Yurio he’s just practically assaulted. There’s a good chance Yuuri may walk away from this encounter with a broken bone of some kind.

Yurio doesn’t seem that mad though, instead just sighing heavily and grumbling, “Watch where you’re going, pork cutlet bowl.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri repeats, bending down to help Yurio pick up his belongings. “Let me help you, _kotyonok_.”

Yurio’s head snaps up so fast Yuuri worries he’s given himself whiplash. His voice is sharp when he demands, “What did you just call me?”

Yuuri blinks, mouth falling open like he’s impersonating a fish. “Uh, sorry. Victor told me it meant kitten and I just thought it was cute. Is that not what it means? Was he playing a trick on me?”

“N-no. That’s… that’s what it means.” Yurio looks down again, hair falling over his eyes as he tucks his things back into his bag. He avoids any eye contact, and the tone of his voice goes oddly soft. “That’s what my grandpa used to call me when I was little.”

Yuuri gulps, unable to read Yurio’s body language. “Oh, right. If you don’t want me to call you that again then I won’t –”

“No!” Yurio cuts him off, eyes snapping up to meet Yuuri’s. The faintest tinge of pink kisses Yurio’s cheeks, and his head ducks again. “I mean, I don’t care either way. You can if you want to, I guess.”

Yuuri stares at him in amazement for a few seconds, hands pausing as he forgets altogether about helping Yurio with his bag. It may be small and it may not have been on purpose, but Yurio just shared a piece of his childhood with him and Yuuri feels quite honoured because of it. The pet name seems to mean something to Yurio and Yuuri is pleased he’s been able to stumble upon it. Yurio’s subsequent shyness is proving to be rather cute.

Yuuri decides not to make a big deal about it though, knowing that’s a sure-fire way to piss Yurio off (as proven by Victor countless times). So Yuuri just smiles and says, “Okay.”

When Yurio has finished collecting his things he stands back up, and turns to walk away.

“Oh, wait!” Yuuri says, spotting one last thing on the ground that Yurio has forgotten. It’s a king sized chocolate bar, and Yuuri smirks as he picks it up. He’s seen the diet plans that Yakov creates for his students and he knows that chocolate is _definitely_ not a part of them, but of course Yurio still manages to be in possession of the biggest bar Yuuri has ever seen.

Yurio looks sheepish when Yuuri hands it back to him. “Um, thanks. Don’t –”

Yuuri holds both hands up. “I won’t tell Yakov. Don’t worry.”

Yurio manages a half smile that looks more like a grimace, mouth just tilting up at the corners. “Thanks.”

“I like that brand,” Yuuri comments, gesturing to the bar. “Have you tried the caramel one?”

Yurio’s eyebrows shoot up, glancing down at the chocolate in his hand and then back up at Yuuri as if he can’t make sense of the question. “Um, no?”

“You should, it’s really good.”

Yuuri half expects Yurio to make a pig joke but he surprisingly doesn’t. Another bemused smile forms on his face, and he nods before walking away.

 _“Poka!”_ Yuuri calls after him, ‘bye’ being one of the few Russian words that he’s learnt this week.

Yurio just waves at him over his shoulder. Yuuri smiles after him, watching him leave through the doors at the end of the hallway before turning in the opposite direction himself.

Yuuri likes to think that with each passing day, he’s chipping away at the walls Yurio has built around himself. He wants Yurio to feel comfortable around him and not think of him as a rival skater but as a _friend_. Yuuri just needs to prove to him that this the case, and he decides that the best way to do this will be through small gestures and perhaps a peace offering or two.

When Victor questions why Yuuri suddenly wants to buy caramel chocolate on the way home, Yuuri just smiles and shrugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a sucker for pet names and I had a craving for caramel.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Apologies for any ice skating or cultural inaccuracies; I'm not a pro skater nor have I ever been to Russia, hopefully there weren't any mistakes!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always much appreciated, I was really thankful for the feedback left on the first chapter :)
> 
> Here's a [link to my tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/) in case y'all ever want to chat!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri becomes increasingly concerned when Victor begs for even more hours at the rink, but when Yurio comes to Yuuri with a problem of his own, Yuuri has to push his worries aside.
> 
> WARNING: For mentions of sexual harassment and (kind of) underage sex, depending on your country.

“Yuuri?”

Victor skates over to Yuuri where he stands on the side-lines, busy stretching in order to fully warm up his body. It’s Monday morning, still early enough that only half of the skaters have begun practice so the rink is peacefully quiet.

“Hm?” Yuuri responds as he leans down to touch his toes.

“Not that I don’t love your commitment to health and safety, because I do, but you’ve been warming up for over half an hour now.”

“Oh.” Yuuri glances at the clock above the changing room doors and straightens up again. “Sorry. I’m almost finished.”

“Okay.” Victor has a strange look on his face, head tilted as though he’s trying to work Yuuri out. “Just make sure you don’t _over-_ work your muscles, alright?”

Yuuri nods, and Victor skates off again. Yuuri absently lifts one leg in an arabesque and glances at the doors to the changing room again. There’s a good reason as to why he’s delaying getting onto the ice this morning, though he hasn’t told Victor why. Yuuri is waiting for Yurio to get here, wanting to catch up with him before they both start their training today in an attempt to continue laying the foundation for a potential friendship.

Unfortunately, Yuuri hadn’t taken into account the fact that Yurio is always the last skater on the rink, sleepy and grumbling after being dragged out of bed by Yakov who seems to have no patience when it comes to teenage laziness.

After another ten minutes of repeating the same stretches, Yuuri is relieved when he sees Yurio finally mooch through the doors to the rink, closely followed by Yakov. Yuuri smiles at the sight of him and waits until Yurio sits down on a bench before approaching him and taking the seat beside him.

“Good morning,” Yuuri says.

Yurio glances sideways at him with a small frown and then turns his attention to his bag on the floor. “Um, I guess.”

Yuuri sits and stares at him for several seconds, racking his brain for a casual conversation starter and fiddling with his fingernails when he comes up with nothing.

As expected, Yuuri’s gaze perturbs Yurio and he snaps, “Do you want to take a picture? Stop staring at me, creep.”

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

Yurio holds up a hand. “Whatever.”

“I got you something,” Yuuri blurts out, wincing at his delivery. Not quite as subtle as he’d been hoping.

That makes Yurio look at Yuuri properly, frown deepening. “Huh?”

Yuuri darts up to pick up his own bag where it sits a few metres away, trotting back over to Yurio and rooting around inside it. He can feel Yurio’s eyes on him, confused and probably annoyed, but still curious nonetheless. Yuuri gives a quick glance around the rink to make sure Yakov isn’t looking and then unearths a bar of the caramel chocolate he’d told Yurio about last Saturday.

He hands it to Yurio, who stares at it as if he’s concerned it may grow teeth and bite him.

“What’s this?” he finally asks.

“You liked the plain one,” Yuuri says with a soft smile. “I thought you might like to try this one, as well.”

Yurio doesn’t take his eyes off the chocolate, even going as far as to turn it over to inspect the back. His voice is quiet, questioning when he says, “Is this a trick?”

Yuuri’s face drops. “No, of course not!”

Yurio isn’t convinced. “Was it Victor? Did he put something weird in it?”

“No!” Yuuri reaches out a hand to touch Yurio’s arm but stops himself at the last second, deciding that’d be a risky move. “I bought it on my way home after we talked the other day. That’s all.”

It still takes Yurio another long moment to accept the answer, nodding before tucking the chocolate bar away in his bag. “Um… thanks.”

“Just don’t let Yakov find out I gave you that,” Yuuri jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll deny all responsibility.”

Yurio huffs in amusement. “It’s fine. If he does find out I’ll just blame it on Victor.”

Yuuri laughs, and Yurio startles at the sound. It’s odd to see Yurio look so uncomfortable. Of course, Yuuri has seen him be uncomfortable before, mostly when Victor tries to be cuddly with Yuuri in front of him or when Mila picks him up. But this is a different sort of discomfort; it’s raiding vulnerability and it makes Yurio look much smaller than he actually is.

“Yuri!”

The two of them both snap their heads up at the sound of Yakov’s booming voice. His arms are crossed and he’s wearing his usual glower.

“Hurry up and get warmed up, Yuri,” he grumbles before shouting at Victor who is busy experimenting with step sequences. “Vitya, get your ass over here!”

Yuuri finally laces up his own skates and steps out onto the ice, and everybody quickly falls into their morning routines. During the times when Victor is working with Yakov and Yuuri is alone, he catches Yurio watching him on a number of different occasions. Yurio always looks away as soon as he’s been noticed and seems to go out of his way to try and ignore Yuuri, but Yuuri can always sense when those piercing eyes are on him again.

Yuuri doesn’t bring attention to it, instead just lets Yurio analyse him. He’s probably trying to work out why Yuuri gave him that little gift earlier, and Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if he still thinks it’s some sort of joke. Yurio hadn’t been half wrong about Victor; Yuuri had deliberately not told his fiancé about his efforts with Yurio because he just _knows_ Victor would find some way to tease the teenager and wind him up.

Yuuri is taking the gentle approach with Yurio, almost as if he’s dealing with a wild animal. Yurio is unpredictable at best, and Yuuri decides that instead of overwhelming him like Victor probably would, he’s just going to show Yurio in little ways that he cares and then let Yurio come to him when he’s ready.

X

“C’mon, Victor!” Yuuri calls from the side-lines on Friday evening, bag already slung over his shoulder and ready to go home. “It’s half past six and I need to start cooking dinner if we actually want to eat while the sun is still up!”

Victor is still out on the rink, forehead gleaming with sweat after hours of intense training. He’s the last person on there, as per usual these days. Personally, Yuuri considers himself a hard worker and he enjoys staying a bit later to take advantage of a quiet rink but even _he_ gets fed up with Victor’s refusal to go home some days. Victor is clearly tired and in need of a break, but he still has to be practically dragged off the ice by Yuuri most evenings.

Victor glides closer to Yuuri so they don’t have to shout, flashing him a small smile and wiping his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. “Just a bit longer, please?”

“ _Victor,”_ Yuuri sighs. “The chicken is going to take a while to cook and I need to get it on as soon as I can.”

“Well…” Victor looks away, absently kicking at the ice with his toe-pick. “Why don’t you go and I’ll stay here?”

Yuuri frowns. “You want me to go home alone?”

He can’t help blushing at his own delivery. It’s not as though Victor and he need to be together every second of the day; despite what a lot of people think, they’re not actually joint at the hip. But the two of them have always had a rather co-dependent relationship and ever since Victor arrived in Hasetsu, he’s been all over Yuuri. It feels a little odd for Victor to just so casually choose to stay alone instead of coming home with him.

Victor’s eyes widen and he hurries to reassure him. “Just for an hour or two! I promise I wouldn’t stay long!”

Yuuri presses his lips together. He likes being around to support Victor and tell him when he needs to take a break, and Yuuri worries that when left alone, Victor might overdo his training and hurt himself. But Victor is a professional, and he’s been a professional for a lot longer than the two of them have known each other. Victor has had a long and highly successful career without any major injuries or slumps and he certainly doesn’t need Yuuri to baby him now.

So Yuuri sighs and says, “Fine. But please, don’t stay any later than eight o’clock.”

Victor beams, nodding eagerly. “Okay!”

Yuuri leans closer with a hand outstretched and Victor meets him at the barrier, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. Yuuri melts under his fiancé’s mouth, clinging to his shirt that’s still damp with sweat and tugging him as close as the barrier between them will allow. He feels Victor’s lips tilt up in a small smile just before sliding his tongue against Yuuri’s, a subtle but teasing movement that sends heat pooling in the pit of his stomach.

_“Get a room!”_

Yuuri yanks himself away, glancing around wildly for the source of the irritated voice that’d just shouted at him.

Yurio is standing in the open doorway that leads out to the changing room corridor, glaring at the two of them with barely disguised contempt.

“Yurio!” Yuuri says, quickly smoothing down his shirt for no reason at all and trying to ignore the way all the heat from his stomach has rushed up to his cheeks. “I thought you went home already?”

“He just didn’t want to miss the show he heard was going on in the rink, right, Yurio?” Victor teases, smirking and shooting Yurio an obnoxious wink.

Yurio’s face twists up, looking like he’s just tasted something disgusting. “I just forgot my headphones, idiot. Nobody wants to see an old man with a boner.”

Yuuri steps even further away from Victor, humiliation still coursing through his veins at being caught in such a compromising position. He adjusts his glasses, turns to Victor and says, “So I’ll see you at home, then?”

Victor nods. “I promise I won’t be too late.”

“You’re staying here?” Yurio asks from where he stands a few metres away, retrieving his headphones from behind one of the benches.

“Mhm,” Victor says to him. “I’ve got work to do. You didn’t think I was going to let you keep my titles for another year, did you?”

Yurio rolls his eyes, stuffing his headphones into his bag. “We’ll see. Go easy on those old, brittle bones, won’t you?”

Victor just laughs, and Yurio gives one last scoff before escaping out of the rink again.

“I wish you wouldn’t tease him so much,” Yuuri scolds Victor, unconsciously crossing his arms like a disapproving parent.

“It’s all in good fun, Yuuri. That’s how it’s been between us for years!”

Yuuri sighs but accepts Victor’s answer. There is something very brotherly about the bond between Victor and Yurio; they spend most of their time bickering and trying to tear the other one down but underneath all the teasing, it’s clear that they both love and respect each other.

“I’ll see you later,” Yuuri says, heading off towards the doors. “Don’t go overboard, okay?”

“Of course I won’t. I love you!”

X

Yuuri finds cooking to be a rather soothing activity. He wouldn’t exactly call himself a skilled cook; with his figure skating training he’s never really had much time to spend in the kitchen so whilst he enjoys making meals, he doesn’t have all that many recipes stored under his belt. He does have a few, though, passed on from his mother, and they always go down a treat with whoever he makes them for. Phichit had always been particularly grateful whenever Yuuri cooked; the usual college diet of pizza and microwave meals got old very quickly.

The repetitive task of cooking the chicken combined with stirring the noodles does a pretty good job of taking Yuuri’s mind off Victor, who is still training down at the rink. Despite the rational part of Yuuri’s brain telling him that Victor is absolutely fine on his own, it doesn’t stop his anxiety from quietly simmering away under the surface.

Yuuri is abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the door being unlocked.

He glances at the clock, noting that it’s far earlier than Victor said he’d be back but still feeling pleased nonetheless that Victor has decided not to overwork himself.

Yuuri turns down the heat on the stove as he hears the door open and close, smiling and calling out, “Hi! I didn’t think you’d be back so early!”

Victor doesn’t respond though, and Yuuri turns to the kitchen door with a frown. He’s about to shout again when the kitchen door is shoved open, his eyebrows shooting up when he sees not Victor, but Yurio enter.

“Yurio!” he says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “I… didn’t know you had a key?”

Yurio shrugs, giving no indication as to why he’s suddenly turned up with no warning. “Victor gave me one years ago.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri watches as Yurio wanders over to the kitchen counter and starts to pick at various items on there, ripping the corner off today’s newspaper and rolling it up into a little ball. After a minute has passed and Yurio still isn’t showing any signs of explaining why he’s here, Yuuri breaks the silence.

“I’m making chicken teriyaki,” he says with a smile. “Would you like some? I need to save some for Victor when he comes back but there’s plenty for all of us.”

Yurio gives a non-committal shrug. “Sure.”

Yuuri nods. “Okay. Well, it’s almost ready, shouldn’t be too long.”

The two of them are quiet as Yuuri finishes up the dish. He doesn’t bother asking Yurio to set the table for them; Yurio would probably prefer to sit in front of the TV instead because it’s more informal and besides, the TV will provide some much needed background noise since Yurio is being uncharacteristically silent.

Yuuri begins to plate up their dinners, biting his lip to contain the many questions he has as to what exactly Yurio is doing here. He’s been religiously turning down Yuuri and Victor’s offers to come over for dinner without any reasoning, so why has he suddenly turned up now? Why today of all days? Is this proof that there really is something bothering him, like everyone has been suspecting these last few weeks? The simple fact that Yurio is being quiet and not even making any pig jokes about Yuuri is enough of a concern.

But Yuuri swallows down his worries, plasters a smile on his face and says, “It’s ready! Wanna eat in front of the TV?”

Yurio just nods and grabs his plate, heading to the living room and leaving Yuuri standing in the kitchen with raised eyebrows. He follows the teenager over to the couch and lets him surf through the channels until he finds something he wants to watch (some Russian cartoon that Yuuri has never seen before).

They eat in silence. Yuuri peeks sideways at the teenager every couple of minutes, searching for any sign of tension or unease about him that’d perhaps give Yuuri some kind of clue as to what Yurio is doing here. But Yurio remains stoic, eyes fixed on the TV as he stabs the food on his plate with his fork with unnecessary aggression. Yuuri lets Yurio quietly stew; instead pretending to be interested in whatever nonsense is playing on the television.

When Yurio places his still half-full plate on the coffee table, already finished eating, Yuuri finally snaps.

“Okay, look,” he says, shoving his own plate beside Yurio’s and twisting to face him. Yuuri can put up with Yurio’s mood swings and endless hours of sulking, he can cope with the way Yurio snaps at him and everyone around them and he can be understanding when Yurio needs time alone. But seeing Yurio waste so much food is just the final straw. Yuuri has _seen_ how much the teen usually eats – he’s a growing boy and his body is constantly demanding food – and Yuuri knows that it’s not a problem with the dish itself since Yurio always enjoyed eating it during his stay in Japan.

Something is definitely on Yurio’s mind, and it’s bothering him enough to stop him from eating. Yuuri prides himself on being patient for the most part but in this instance, he’s reached his threshold.

“I don’t know what the problem is here,” Yuuri says, trying not to be put off by the horrified glare that Yurio sends his way. “And I would never pressure you to tell me what’s wrong but I just want you to know that I really want to help. No matter what the issue is, I’m here and I’ll support you no matter what. I’d never judge you, not for anything, and I just want to –”

Yurio cuts him off with a raised hand and a pained expression, snapping, _“I know!”_

Yuuri immediately stops speaking, mouth still open with a hundred things still sitting on the tip of his tongue. He swallows them down with a loud gulp, wide eyes flickering between Yurio’s as he waits for him to talk.

Yurio sighs and slumps back against the couch cushions. His arms come around his middle, squeezing, as though he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. His voice is softer and more vulnerable than Yuuri has ever heard it when he mumbles, “I _know_ you wouldn’t judge me. Why do you think I came here when I knew Victor would be out?”

That makes Yuuri frown, and he tilts his head. “Yurio, you know you can tell Victor anything. He loves you very much.”

“Yeah, but…” Yurio huffs and looks away. “It’s just hard, okay?”

Yuuri exhales, tucking his hands between his thighs to cover the way they’ve started to ever so slightly shake. He forces himself to relax against the back of the couch, still turned towards Yurio, and tries to gently prompt him. “So something _has_ happened?”

Yurio squirms. “Kind of. I don’t know. It’s not really a big deal.”

“Of course it is, _kotyonok_ ,” Yuuri says, trying to soothe Yurio with the pet name. “Your feelings are important, all of them.”

Yurio rolls his eyes at the mere mention of feelings. “Whatever.”

Hm, it’s clear that Yuuri is going to have to lead this discussion. Yurio _wants_ to talk, his presence here is a clear enough indication of that, but he’s never been the type to gush about his emotions and he’s probably unsure of where to begin. That’s something that Yuuri is going to have to help him out with. “Mila mentioned that you’ve been a little off since World’s… did something happen there, maybe? Or afterwards?”

Yurio is quiet for several long seconds, practically glaring a hole through coffee table. “It was at World’s.”

“Okay,” Yuuri nods. They’re slowly making progress. Yuuri takes a moment to sort through in his mind what he remembers from the World Championships, and if he’d noticed Yurio acting any differently. Nothing comes to mind; Yurio had been in top form and had beaten Yuuri to the top of the podium by three points. All of the skaters had gone out for dinner after the Free Skate and… that had been it. Everyone had flown home the next day. So what is Yuuri missing? “Did it happen before the competition? Or after?”

Yuuri swears he sees Yurio gulp. “After.”

“After we all went out to the restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

That makes sense. Yuuri and Victor hadn’t stayed at the restaurant for too long; their flight had been the earliest to leave out of all the skaters so they couldn’t exactly stay out getting wasted. It’d explain why Yuuri never noticed anything different with Yurio if nothing had actually happened until after Yuuri and Victor had left.

Yuuri wants to reach out and touch Yurio’s arm, give him a hug, stroke his hair, _anything_ to reassure him and stop him from looking quite so on edge. “Can you tell me what happened? Please?”

Yuuri has never seen Yurio look so uncomfortable. His head is ducked down but Yuuri can see how his eyes are darting around as though they’re looking for help or perhaps some kind of escape. His hands are clenched into fists and tucked under his arms, as though he’s deliberately trying to make his posture appear tough and unfazed. The tiny trembles that rock his body give away his true feelings, though, and his voice quivers the smallest amount when he mumbles:

“JJ kissed me.”

Yuuri’s mouth drops, along with his stomach. His mind short-circuits as he tries to form some sort of coherent thought or sentence, trying and failing to process those three short words. If he’d been given a hundred guesses as to what has been bothering Yurio lately, there’s no way in _hell_ he’d have ever thought of _that_. It takes several long moments but Yuuri’s brain finally catches up with the reality of the situation, and he is struck with the overwhelming urge to _protect_. “He did _what?”_

Yurio shrugs as if he hasn’t just dropped a huge bombshell. “It’s not a big deal.”

“But…” Yuuri’s mouth opens and closes, doing his best impression of a fish as a swarm of wild thoughts fly around his mind, far too quickly for him to focus on just one to actually vocalise.

Yurio is staring at him as though he’s daring Yuuri to do the opposite of what he said and freak out, which Yuuri will admit he is _very_ tempted to do. What was the meaning of the kiss, why would JJ initiate it? Was it consensual, did Yurio return it? Yuuri splutters, “But… what about his fiancé?”

Yurio just shrugs again. “He was pretty drunk.”

Yuuri wonders if JJ’s fiancé is aware of any of this. He makes a mental note to search JJ’s Instagram later for any kinds of clues and then forces himself to take a deep breath. He needs to focus on Yurio right now, and panicking is only going to push the boy further into his shell.

“Okay. So…” Yuuri says, clasping his hands together as he tries to appear calmer than he actually is. “After the competition, JJ got drunk and he kissed you. What… what did you think of it?”

Yurio sniffs. “It was fine, I guess.”

Yuuri only raises an eyebrow, staying perfectly quiet.

Yurio suddenly looks annoyed, fidgeting under Yuuri’s stare and casting him a dark look. “ _What?_ I said it was fine.”

But Yuuri can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to the story than a simple kiss. He’s made it this far with Yurio already, and he doesn’t want to ruin it now by only solving half of the problem.

So he stays silent, and waits for Yurio to spill.

Yurio manages to keep up the façade for all of five seconds before he buckles under weight of Yuuri’s expectant look. His entire body slumps, clenched hands falling into his lap as he looks away. His voice is small and muffled by the hair that covers his face, so quiet that Yuuri almost doesn’t hear him. “Until he wouldn’t stop.”

A cloud of red consumes Yuuri’s vision, fiery and powerful enough to push aside any other logical thoughts or sensible reasoning. His back straightens up and his hands ball into fists, voice so low and dangerous that he barely recognises it as his own. _“What?”_

Yurio doesn’t say a word. He just looks up at Yuuri, defeated, and gives a shaky exhale.

“What did he do to you?” Yuuri demands.

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” Yurio mutters. “He just groped me until I kicked him in the balls.”

Yuuri practically explodes. “And what did he have to say for himself afterwards?! _Why_ did he do that to you?!”

Yurio looks surprised by Yuuri’s anger, as if he didn’t expect him to have such a strong reaction. “We were fighting at the restaurant, just like we normally do; I was making fun of him for losing to me and you again and he was laughing, trying to piss me off. I didn’t realise how much he’d been drinking until everyone left the restaurant and it was just me and him outside.

“We went into the alleyway by the restaurant and he kissed me. I just let him do it to start with; I was so surprised I didn’t know what else to do. Then I pushed him away but he came back, kept coming back even though I pushed him off like four times. And his hands were everywhere… I just panicked, kicked him in the junk and ran away.”

“Have you spoken to him since?” Yuuri asks, fury blazing in his chest and making his heart pound.

“Kind of. He kept messaging me afterwards saying he was really sorry, and that he thought I was just playing hard to get, you know, acting annoyed like I do when we argue. He said he didn’t realise I was actually uncomfortable, and that he was going to tell his fiancé about it and stuff.”

“And what did you say to all of that?”

Yurio gulps. “Nothing. I didn’t reply to any of the messages.”

Yuuri sighs heavily. JJ has never proven himself to be in any way malicious or hurtful, but he can be a colossal idiot sometimes. Of _course_ he’d think all of Yurio’s snappy comments and threats had been attempts at flirting. Yuuri wants to buy himself a plane ticket to Canada for the sole purpose of tracking JJ down and smacking him fifty times over for daring to lay a finger on his friend.

Another thought suddenly occurs to him, and he tilts his head to one side as he carefully asks, “Yurio… was that your first kiss?”

Yurio’s cheeks tinge pink, and he shifts uneasily in his seat. “Um, yeah.”

A wave of guilt racks Yuuri’s body, heavy and consuming. If Victor and he hadn’t booked their flight so early, if they’d delayed it just a little longer, they would’ve been able to stay out and Yurio wouldn’t have been left alone with JJ. Yurio wouldn’t have had his first kiss stolen.

Tears fill Yuuri’s eyes, and he places a warm hand on Yurio’s arm. “I’m so sorry, _kotyonok._ Your first kiss should’ve been more special. It should’ve been on _your_ terms.”

Yurio’s Adam’s apple dips as he swallows heavily. “Yeah, well… nothing I can do about it now, is there?”

Yuuri itches to pull Yurio closer. The teen has always gone out of his way to maintain a tough and emotionless exterior, to protect himself and his true feelings from the rest of the world. He’s built a shell around him so hard and unbreakable that nobody dares to try and get too close, but what if that’s not what Yurio needs right now? He’s clearly hurting, scared of what he experienced on that fateful night after World’s, but would he reach out to someone if he really needed to? Unlikely, if Yuuri knows him at all.

So if Yurio won’t ask for help himself, maybe Yuuri can help by reaching out to him. He understands how difficult it is for Yurio to admit he needs any sort of support, and Yuuri can save him the embarrassment by acting without having to be asked.

Yuuri bites his lip, mentally sends a silent prayer up to the heavens that he doesn’t lose any fingers for this, and slides an arm around Yurio’s shoulders.

As expected, Yurio immediately stiffens. He doesn’t protest though, much to Yuuri’s surprise, and Yuuri takes that as a sign to continue. He squeezes Yurio’s bicep in a silent request for him to relax, stroking a thumb up and down his arm and gently urging him closer. Yurio lets himself be pulled, shifting closer to Yuuri until his arm presses against Yuuri’s side, awkward and bony.

“What’re you doing?” Yurio finally asks, still as a statue and tensed from holding himself in one position for so long.

Yuuri gives a small smile and shrugs. “Sometimes when I feel down or anxious, the only thing that can make me feel better is a hug.”

Yurio scoffs. “I don’t need a fucking _hug.”_

He makes no attempt to move, though. In fact, he marginally relaxes, a shaky exhale leaving his body as his hands clench and unclench in his lap.

“Does anybody else know about what happened?” Yuuri mumbles against Yurio’s hair. “Did you tell Otabek?”

Yuuri hasn’t spent much time around Otabek but he knows that him and Yurio have become fast friends since the last Grand Prix Final, and the two of them text and Skype often.

Yurio’s breath catches at the mention of his friend’s name. “No. I didn’t want him to get mad.”

“At JJ?”

“At _me.”_

Yuuri frowns. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“I don’t know.” Yurio’s small body shudders. “For leading JJ on?”

Yuuri highly doubts Otabek would react in such a way; from what Yuuri has seen of him he’s a rather cool and understanding kind of guy. But Yuuri cannot blame Yurio for thinking irrationally this way since Yuuri is no stranger to these kinds of thought processes himself. After keeping quiet about this incident for weeks, it’s understandable that Yurio’s thoughts may have started to spiral.

“Yurio, in _no way_ was it your fault. You did _not_ lead JJ on; it was all his decision to hurt you like that, which I am _personally_ going to slap him for next time I see him. I know how easy it can be to start doubting yourself but you can’t give in. You can stay strong, I know you can.”

“Yeah, I… I know but…” Yurio’s voice catches, and Yuuri’s heart breaks in two. “It’s _hard_ , okay?”

Yuuri bundles him up in both arms and tugs him closer, and this time, Yurio goes willingly. He doesn’t cry, not really, but his breathing is unpredictable and shaky as Yuuri gently rocks him like a small child. It’s easy to forget that Yurio is still only sixteen. He surrounds himself with people who are older and the way he talks tricks many others into thinking he’s more experienced than he actually is.

But Yuuri doesn’t want Yurio to feel as though he has to behave this way around him. Being frightened or anxious is nothing to be ashamed of (which is something that has taken him a very long time to come to terms with) and he wants to show Yurio that it’s okay to need affection and words of comfort sometimes. Yuuri has always had loved ones around him who go out of their way to support him, and now it’s time for him to do the same for Yurio.

Yurio’s hands fidget in his lap before one inches towards Yuuri, sneaking around his middle and finally returning the hug. The angle is a little awkward but neither of them pay it much attention. They lean against each other as the minutes pass by, Yuuri’s body heat gradually transferring to Yurio and warming his usually cold and tense figure.

“It’s worse at night time,” Yurio mumbles. “I just… can’t stop thinking about his stupid hands on me… and how he tasted like rank beer.”

Yuuri’s chest tightens, and he presses a kiss to the top of Yurio’s head.

“He…” Yurio sniffs. “He kept… touching my hips and… I keep thinking about if I… if I couldn’t get him off –”

“It would never have gotten that far,” Yuuri cuts him off with a firm voice. “JJ may be an idiot, but he wouldn’t have gotten _that_ carried away.”

Yurio just sighs against him, falling quiet again as he allows Yuuri to play with his hair. It’s softer than Yuuri would have imagined; a part of him sort of expected Yurio to feel as coarse as the words he shoots at people.

Yurio is the one who breaks the contact first, suddenly shooting up and turning to Yuuri with wild eyes and a deep frown. “You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? I don’t want anybody to know. Not even Victor.”

Yuuri blinks at him, stomach flipping at the idea of having to hide something from his love. “Why don’t you want Victor to know? He’d be supportive, and would probably offer to kick JJ’s butt for you.”

Yurio scowls. “I just don’t, okay? It’s _embarrassing.”_

“Why is it embarrassing?”

 _“Because._ ” Yurio crosses his arms and frowns down at the floor. “I’m sixteen and I got scared because of one dumb _kiss?_ Victor was already having _sex_ by the time he was my age, I know he was!”

Yuuri reels, body flushing hot and cold at the sudden revelation about his fiancé. “Wait, _what?”_

Yurio looks up at him strangely, as if he’s surprised that Yuuri didn’t already know that. “Yeah, Georgi mentioned it once when he was rambling about ‘first times needing to be special’ or something.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri falls quiet, mind whirling with thoughts of a sixteen year old Victor. Yuuri remembers how he and everyone else in the world had viewed Victor at that time; his career had just taken off and the public had been fascinated with him, from his almost elfin demeanour and silvery long hair to his outstanding ability that put those five years his senior to shame. Yuuri had been particularly in awe of the ethereal beauty and the way he shone with otherworldly innocence.

The way Victor portrayed himself to the world when he was a teenager barely matches up with Yurio’s revelation, that outside of the rink and behind closed doors, Victor was out having sex with God knows who. Of course, he’d been of legal age in Russia so there’s really nothing for Yuuri to feel so betrayed about, but then Yuuri imagines how he’d feel if _Yurio_ was out doing that at the age he is now and his skin starts to crawl. Yurio still feels like a child.

Yuuri wonders why he didn’t know about this side of Victor’s teenage years earlier. But then he remembers that he also didn’t know about Victor living with Yakov either and his stomach twists into a knot. Yet another thing he can add to the growing list of ‘Facts He Didn’t Know About His Own Fiancé’.

Yurio is still staring at Yuuri, waiting for him to finish his internal freak out. Yuuri shakes his head and reminds himself that tonight is supposed to be about comforting Yurio. He pushes all thoughts of Victor and the many questions Yuuri now wants to ask him from his mind and forces his attention back to the teenager before him.

“Like I said, there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about but if it’s what you want, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not even Victor.”

Yurio nods once, shoulders slumping. “Thanks.”

Yuuri reaches out a hand and rubs Yurio’s arm, opening his mouth to tell the boy that Yuuri will always be here if he needs to talk, when he’s distracted by the sound of the front door being opened.

 _“Honey!”_ Victor sing-songs loudly. _“I’m hooome!”_

Yurio immediately looks panicked, shooting one last death glare at Yuuri as if to remind him of his own promise before Victor bursts into the room, smiling widely.

“Yurio!” Victor says, smile falling for a brief second of surprise before it returns with a vengeance. “What a nice surprise!”

“I was just leaving, actually,” Yurio snaps, standing up and pushing past Victor.

“So soon?” Victor pouts. “But I only just got home!”

“Exactly.” Yurio glances back at Yuuri once before grumbling at the two of them, “See you at practice tomorrow.”

At that, he stomps out, leaving Victor to stare at Yuuri with raised eyebrows and confused puppy eyes. Yuuri just shoots him a weak smile, mentally drained from the unexpected emotional revelations that’d happened tonight. With any luck, Victor won’t pick up on anything and Yuuri will be free to stew in his own thoughts in peace.

“I’m glad your home,” he murmurs, standing up and pressing a chaste kiss to Victor’s lips as he walks past him into the kitchen. “I’ll heat up your dinner.”

“What would I do without you?” Victor calls after him.

Yuuri waits until he’s safely hidden behind the kitchen door to let out the heavy sigh that’s been building within him. He doubts he’s going to get much sleep tonight, too busy worrying about Yurio and how he’s coping with the memories of what JJ did. Yurio and he didn't exactly get to finish their conversation tonight, and Yuuri knows that there are still many things left to be discussed. On top of that, there’s the added bonus of analysing why everybody else but him seems to know all of these intimate and personal things about Victor, and why it’s never Victor himself who reveals these things to him.

Yuuri turns his attention to the leftover chicken teriyaki, already accepting the tiredness he’s going to feel tomorrow. It’s going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this Yurio-centric chapter! The focus will shift back to Yuuri and Victor next chapter.
> 
> Just a disclaimer: I really do love JJ! But there isn't a single mean character in YOI and out of all of the skaters, who could I imagine doing something completely idiotic?
> 
> Here's a [link to my tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/), drop by for a chat if you like!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is well aware that Victor is in love with him and has been since they met, so why does Yuuri still feel like Victor is too good for him?

Yuuri darts for his phone the second he hears the familiar call of Facetime, ignoring his achy legs and leaping onto the couch. He grabs his phone from where it sits on the coffee table, accepting the call he’s been waiting for since he got home and settling himself down with a wide smile.

Phichit’s face fills the screen, grinning toothily as he waves. “Yuuri!”

“Hi, Phichit!” Yuuri says, waving back to his friend.

“How have you been? I’ve missed you!” Phichit’s face is softly illuminated in the dim light of his room, jet black hair strewn across the pillow he lies on. With Bangkok four hours ahead of St. Petersburg, Phichit is already in bed, but this is the only time they’d both been free for a catch up in the last couple of weeks so they’ve had to make do.

“I’m okay,” Yuuri says. “I’ve missed you, too! I’m so pleased you’re going to be competing this year!”

“I wouldn’t miss it!” After Phichit told Yuuri of his dream to produce his own ice show Yuuri had worried that Phichit would be absent from all subsequent competitions, but it turns out ice shows aren’t something that can be created overnight. Phichit will be competing in this year’s Grand Prix for definite but as for the next seasons, he has said that he isn’t sure. Yuuri is thrilled about Phichit’s plans for the future but a small, selfish part of him is hoping he can get another competitive season or two out of his friend; Phichit is such a gem amongst so many other intimidating skaters.

“How’s Celestino treating you? Is your training brutal yet?”

“It’s not too bad, really, Ciao Ciao isn’t riding my ass that hard just yet,” Phichit says with a laugh. “I’m trying to land a quad salchow but it’s so hard!”

Yuuri groans in sympathy. Quadruple salchows are considered to be the second easiest quad of all the jumps, but that doesn’t mean it’s still not a killer. It’d taken Yuuri years to master, not really getting it until Yurio taught him in Hasetsu last year. “Yeah, that one sucks. Just keep practising it though, you’ll get it soon enough.”

“Hope so. How are you finding Russia? Is it as cold as everyone makes out?”

“ _Yes_.” Yuuri finds himself shivering just thinking about how bitter it is during the early morning walks to practice, even despite the fact that it’s spring now. “I’m permanently wearing three layers of clothing, while Victor is swanning around at home in a short sleeve shirt.”

Phichit giggles. “I’d say I’d like to visit you two, but I’m not sure my poor Thai body could cope. I’m like a lizard, Yuuri, I need the heat!”

Yuuri laughs. Phichit is probably exaggerating since he did manage to survive the chilly Detroit climate for a few years. Saying that though, Yuuri has often complained to Victor that he thinks he’d be warmer living in the North Pole than St. Petersburg.

Phichit goes on, eyes softening. “And how are you finding practice? You’re kind of in enemy territory, surrounded by the Russian team. Are they nice to you?”

“To be honest, I don’t really see many of them,” Yuuri shrugs. “Yakov keeps his rink private as often as he can so it’s only Victor, Yurio, Mila and Georgi there with me most of the time.”

Phichit nods. “That’s good, then. But if anyone _is_ mean to you then call me, okay? I can be there in less than a day and while I may not be tall, I sure am scrappy.”

Yuuri smiles. “Thank you. I think you and Yuuko would make quite the team.”

 _“Yuuri!”_ Victor suddenly sings from somewhere else in the apartment. There’s the sound of footsteps coming closer until Victor pokes his head around the living room door. “I’m going to pick up dinner now, okay?”

“Hi, Victor!” Phichit shouts through the phone.

Victor turns his attention to Phichit, walking closer so he can bend down by Yuuri and wave. “Hi!”

“How have you been?”

“I’m well, thank you, and you?”

“I’m fine. Gearing up to kick both of your asses this year!”

“I look forward to it!” Victor says with a laugh before looking at Yuuri. “I won’t be long, okay, love?”

Yuuri’s entire face burns when Victor kisses his cheek, mumbling a quiet ‘goodbye’ as he tries to hide his pleased smile from Phichit. When he hears the front door slam shut, he peeks up at his friend.

Phichit is wearing what Yuuri can only describe as a shit-eating grin, waggling his eyebrows up and down. “You two are _so_ cute.”

Yuuri covers a cheek with his free hand, trying to hide his raging blush.

“Seems like it’s going well between you two, anyway,” Phichit says. “I know you were worried about moving in with him.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri admits. “I know he lived with me in Hasetsu but it was _different_ then, we were always surrounded by my family and random customers, and we had separate bedrooms. Here, there’s nobody but us. And Makkachin, of course.”

“You haven’t freaked out about it, then?”

“Not really, no. So far, so good.”

Phichit nods and then, with a completely straight face, asks, “And how’s the sex?”

Yuuri splutters, eyes widening as he glances around as if looking for eavesdroppers. _“Phichit!”_

“What?” Phichit frowns. “Victor is the first person you’ve been with, Yuuri; I want to make sure things are good for you in the bedroom!”

Yuuri swallows, his blush returning with a vengeance. “Fine, fine. It-it’s good. The sex is… it’s good.”

Phichit’s frown only deepens, thick eyebrows etching together. “That doesn’t sound very convincing. Are you not enjoying it?”

“N-no, I… I _am –_ ”

“Are you not having an orgasm?”

Yuuri fights the urge to hide behind his hands again, beyond mortified to be talking about this so frankly. “No, that’s not it, I… I always have a… yeah.”

“Then what is it?”

Yuuri sighs, taking a moment to collect himself before trying to voice his anxieties. “ _I_ always enjoy our love-making very much. I just… I don’t think that Victor is completely… satisfied.”

Phichit’s tone drops ever so slightly, immediately protective. “Has he said something?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Okay, so why are you thinking he isn’t fully happy?”

“I… it’s just… I’m not exactly… _adventurous_ in bed.”

“How so? How do you two usually have sex?”

Phichit is the only person in the entire world who Yuuri could have such an honest conversation with about this. Yuuri is always so shy when it comes to sex; he can barely bring himself to talk about it properly with his own fiancé (despite Victor’s best efforts to get him to open up). “With me on my back, him on top, all of the lights off, and I refuse to make any noise.”

Phichit blinks. “Every time?”

Yuuri looks down at his lap, ashamed. “Every time.”

Phichit nods. “Wow. Well, there’s nothing wrong with liking missionary, Yuuri, it’s a great position.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the _only_ position, is it?” Yuuri huffs. “Victor must be so bored doing the same thing every time.”

“Has he asked you to try anything new?”

“Yeah, he used to. I kind of feel like he’s given up lately, though.”

Phichit hums, looking away thoughtfully. “And what do you mean you _refuse_ to make any noise? Because you can be quiet in bed, Yuuri, lots of people are.”

“Yeah, I know. My body _wants_ to make some noise but it’s like the noises get stuck in my throat, and I can’t bring myself to let them out. It just feels so _embarrassing.”_

“Victor isn’t expecting you to sound like a porn star. Sex noises are nothing for you to feel embarrassed about, Yuuri, it’s just a way of telling Victor that what he’s doing feels good.”

Yuuri is as red as a tomato by this point, feeling as though he’s being lectured by a well-meaning but brazen sex therapist. The rational part of him understands everything Phichit is saying to be true, but he’s never been that great at quelling his anxieties with rationality.

Sex is still relatively new to Yuuri. Despite Victor kissing him at the Cup of China last year, they didn’t actually sleep together until after the Japanese Nationals. The competition had been something of a disaster; Yuuri had scored excellently in the Short Program and everyone had assumed he’d take gold but the night before the Free Skate, he’d received a call from Yuuko that Takeshi and the triplets had been involved in a small car accident. It had been nothing serious and nobody was injured but it’d still shaken Yuuri, leading to him sneaking to the hotel room’s well-stocked mini fridge whilst Victor slept and binge-eating until he was sick.

As a result, Yuuri had been sluggish and distracted during his Free Skate, and was beaten to the top of the podium by less than half a point. He’d been devastated, but with Victor’s support, Yuuri hadn’t beaten himself up nearly as much as he would’ve done a year or so ago. It made him realise just how easily Victor is able to calm him, and how much Yuuri has come to rely on him because of it.

Yuuri is eternally grateful for Victor’s support. The events at the Japanese Nationals had opened his eyes to just how much he adores that dorky idiot and all of his sweet but not-quite-perfect attempts to soothe Yuuri’s anxiety. So Yuuri had pulled Victor into his arms, kissed him, and whispered that he was finally ready.

With it being his first time Yuuri had been nervous and hesitant, but he’d assumed that’d change as time went on. Unfortunately, his anxieties haven’t abated nearly as quickly as he’d hoped.

“I understand that,” Yuuri sighs to Phichit. “But it’s easier said than done. What should I do?”

“Just try doing little things. If you don’t feel comfortable changing the position or anything like that just yet then that’s okay; you can do smaller things like leaving a light on, or telling Victor when he’s doing something that feels especially nice.”

Yuuri can’t help scoffing. “How am I supposed to _tell_ Victor something like that? I can barely look him in the eye after sex!”

“There are more ways to tell someone than just through words, Yuuri,” Phichit says, shaking his head as though the answer is obvious. “Pull him closer, kiss him, moan, hold him tighter. What do you usually do with your hands during?”

“I just sort of… grip the sheets,” Yuuri mumbles, ashamed once again. He’s never been the type to make the first move, so unless Victor actually takes hold of his hands and places them somewhere else for him, Yuuri won’t do anything.

Phichit gives him a small, sad smile. After living with him for years in college, Phichit is well aware of just how crippling Yuuri’s anxiety can be. It’s held him back from doing so many things; making friends, dating, going out to parties, and so much more. “I know it’s hard for you, Yuuri, but just give it a try. Baby steps, yeah? Once you start, you’ll probably find that it gets so much easier to open up to him.”

Yuuri nods. “I’m just… so scared that he’ll eventually get bored with me.”

“He’ll never get bored with you, Yuuri. Everybody around you can see how much he worships you. But I do think it’s important for you to explore a bit more in the bedroom. Sex is a great part of life, and I don’t want you to miss out on that because of your anxiety.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Yuuri says, nodding with much more determination this time. “I’ll try something new. Tonight, if I can.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Phichit says with a wink.

X

That night, Yuuri sits up in bed as he waits for Victor to come out of the bathroom. His hands fidget in his lap, biting his lip as he tries to form a plan of action in his mind. Whilst he has decided to take Phichit’s advice, Yuuri still isn’t entirely sure what he’s actually going to do, and the fear of the unknown is causing his heart to pound against his ribcage. He can’t help rolling his eyes at his own body’s reaction. Anyone would think he’s planning to rob a bank or something, not have sex with his own fiancé.

He startles when the bathroom door opens, a thin layer of steam billowing out from the shower Victor has just had. Victor smiles at him as he walks out, rubbing the back of his hair with a towel to dry away the last of the water droplets that hang there. A single bead manages to escape, running down Victor’s chest and over one of his nipples. Yuuri wants to lick it away.

“Almost done, love,” Victor says chirpily, turning to assess his hair in the mirror.

Heat pools in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach as he watches him, eyes roaming over Victor’s bare back. He’s stark naked, as per usual after a shower, though he shows no modesty as he parades around the room. Yuuri would be jealous of Victor’s confidence if he wasn’t too busy enjoying the view, positively drooling as his hands clench and unclench in his lap.

Victor finally gets into bed, leaning over to kiss Yuuri quick and soft before letting out a wide yawn. Yuuri panics; Victor is already sleepy and he needs to act fast before he loses his nerve and Victor dozes off.

He lurches forward, pressing their lips together with fervour and making Victor quietly squawk. Yuuri isn’t usually the one to initiate kisses and when he does, they’re quick and chaste, so he doesn’t blame Victor for being a little surprised. Yuuri steels himself and tugs Victor closer, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling until they’re both lying down, with Victor hovering over him and quickly taking the lead.

Yuuri allows himself to marginally relax. Kissing this way is familiar, comforting and pleasurable. Victor’s lips move over his with as much passion as they did the first time the two of them made out, and the sensation still never fails to make Yuuri melt. His hands reach up to cup Victor’s face as Victor’s own hand falls to Yuuri’s waist, teasing the edge of his underwear and dipping just beneath the fabric to trace his hipbone.

The heat between them only grows in intensity as the minutes pass by. Victor rolls on top of Yuuri and settles himself between Yuuri’s thighs, gently rocking his hips once and coaxing a tiny sigh from both of their lips. Yuuri is so caught up in the magic that is Victor’s mouth that he almost doesn’t see when Victor reaches out an arm to turn off the only source of light in the room, the lamp on the bedside table beside them.

Yuuri’s hand shoots out and grabs Victor’s wrist, stilling him. Victor breaks the kiss and looks down at him with a curious eyebrow raised.

“Maybe, if… if you wanted to, we could…” Yuuri glances away, blushing. “Leave the light on this time?”

Victor visibly gulps, eyes widening ever so slightly. “Yeah, of course. If you’re sure?”

Yuuri takes a moment to decide if this is definitely something he’s going to be comfortable with. It’s only one lamp; the main light in the bedroom has already been turned off so Yuuri doesn’t feel quite so exposed. This feels like the perfect ‘baby step’, like Phichit had said earlier on. The lighting is soft, romantic. Flattering. Yuuri feels at ease under Victor’s gaze here.

So he gives Victor a small, reassuring smile and nods. Victor’s hesitant expression quickly dissolves into a grin and he removes his hand from the light switch to grasp Yuuri’s waist again, kissing him with renewed urgency.

Yuuri’s clothes are shed slowly, piece by piece. When he’s fully uncovered, he grips the sheets beneath him to stop himself from hiding his body behind his own arms. Victor’s mouth pulls away from Yuuri’s and begins to trail down his neck, igniting his nerve endings with every feather light touch. Yuuri’s eyes flutter closed and he turns his head to the side, offering more of his skin to Victor’s magical lips and letting his fiancé gaze upon him.

Whilst Victor has seen Yuuri naked many times, namely in the onsen or various changing rooms, it’s rare for Yuuri to allow himself to be completely seen during these intimate moments. It feels different, somehow. He is always left feeling open, raw, exposed.

He hears Victor let out a quiet sigh and he sucks in a breath, a smattering of goosebumps erupting across his skin. One of Victor’s hands glides down his stomach, and he murmurs, “ _So beautiful, Yuuri.”_

He shudders under the praise. Victor is always free with his compliments of Yuuri both in and out of the bedroom and whilst Yuuri generally doesn’t believe such things about himself, it’s sweet of Victor to say them.

Yuuri is more than happy to let Victor take control from there, relaxing into the sheets as Victor takes him apart from above. When Victor finally pushes inside, Yuuri’s breath leaves him in a rush and he stares unblinkingly up at Victor in an attempt to commit every detail of that beautiful face to memory. Victor’s eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light of the room, deep pools of azure striking enough to put Hasetsu’s ocean to shame.

A cocktail of love and lust swirls within Yuuri’s stomach as Victor begins moving, setting a slow pace as always to make sure Yuuri is comfortable. Victor is so thoughtful, so considerate of him during these moments. They’ve never talked about it explicitly but Victor knows that he’s Yuuri’s first and he seems to get that sex is a big deal for Yuuri. It’s why Victor never pushes him, doesn’t tease Yuuri when he gets anxious or force him into trying something different. Without fail, Victor waits for Yuuri to give him the green light every time. It’s the reason why Yuuri trusts him completely to take the lead, knowing that his body is safe in Victor’s hands and that Victor will always succeed in giving him pleasure.

At Victor’s questioning look, Yuuri nods, giving silent permission for him to go faster. As Victor loses himself above Yuuri, mouth parting in a quiet moan, Yuuri watches him and internally curses his own damn anxiety. All this time, he has focused on how embarrassed _he’d_ feel if Victor saw his body in full light during sex, and how desperately he’d wanted to keep himself hidden because of it. But that has also meant that he’d denied himself of the gloriousness that is _Victor_ , all hard muscles, glowing skin and open expression as he surrenders to every sensation that envelopes him.

Yuuri is captivated by the sight, so much so that he’s barely aware of his own pleasure as it steadily builds in the very pit of his stomach. Without even thinking, Yuuri untangles a hand from the sheets and places it on the centre of Victor’s chest, barely applying any pressure at all as he strokes the hot skin with the tips of his fingers. Victor’s movements stutter for a moment as he glances down at Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri is so rarely the one to make the first touch, always so passive when they’re intimate like this. Victor has never seemed to mind too much before but now, he looks at Yuuri’s hand like he’s been touched by a damn angel or something. His smile is bright, blindly so, and within half a second he’s leaning closer to press a hard and lingering kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri releases a breath he hadn’t released he’d been holding, relaxing into Victor’s kiss and gliding his hands around Victor’s waist and up his back. Tracing mindless patterns over Victor’s flushed skin, Yuuri tilts his head back and sinks his teeth into his lip. A particularly well-aimed thrust sends his mind reeling, and his entire body tenses as he digs his nails into Victor’s back. Yuuri’s touches light a fire under Victor who begins to explore Yuuri’s body with his own hands, not leaving a single patch of skin neglected.

Between heated caresses and gasps for breath, Yuuri vaguely acknowledges that Phichit had been right. Now that the first step has been taken, it’s surprisingly easy for him to fall into Victor’s embrace and just let himself _be_ in the moment, finally allowing his desire to take the reins for a short while whilst his anxiety gets pushed aside.

A part of him has always been nervous about Victor being annoyed or amused by Yuuri’s actions in the bedroom, that he wouldn’t enjoy Yuuri’s touches if he hadn’t explicitly asked for them first, or that he’d find Yuuri’s attempts at seduction comical. But it seems to be having the opposite effect as Victor grasps and clings to Yuuri’s body, panting and whimpering in a way Yuuri has never seen before. He gazes up at Victor’s pretty face, eyes half-lidded and cheeks rosy, and once again curses his anxiety for being the reason he’s missed out on this sight for months.

As Victor quickens his pace, Yuuri’s eyes roll to the back of his head and his back arches uncontrollably, fingernails raking down Victor’s back. He hardly cares at this point if he’s going to leave some sort of mark on that glorious, flushed skin; his body is being rapidly consumed by a fire that burns in the base of his stomach and demands every last bit of his attention. Barely aware of himself, Yuuri’s lips part and out falls a delicate, but undeniable, whine of pleasure.

The noise is so alien that for a wild second Yuuri doesn’t realise it had come from himself, not until he feels Victor’s wide eyes on him. An embarrassed blush creeps up Yuuri’s neck and his heart thunders as he rushes to make an excuse for himself, but Victor promptly shushes him with searing kiss.

“Wanna hear that again,” Victor mutters. “You have no idea how attractive you are, _dorogoy_. No idea.”

It doesn’t take long for Yuuri to shatter beneath Victor’s body. The two of them cling to each other as they ride out the sensations, a final sob tumbling from Yuuri’s lips before he falls back against the pillows, thoroughly spent. Victor follows suit shortly after, collapsing onto his side with a sigh.

Staring up at the ceiling, Yuuri takes a moment to sort through his feelings. He’s sated, for one, after one of the best rounds of sex that Victor and he have ever had. He’s calm, body still thrumming with endorphins and leaving him relaxed enough to not feel the need to rush and put his pyjamas back on. And he’s also relieved, that he managed to follow through on Phichit’s advice and not freak out in front of Victor.

But most of all, he is _proud_ of himself. Having sex with a single light on isn’t exactly the most ground-breaking of things but to _Yuuri,_ who has laughably low self-esteem and didn’t lose his virginity until he was twenty four because of it, it is. He’s never been good at opening up and allowing people to really _see_ him, always afraid that he’d be judged or mocked in some way. But now, after witnessing just how thrilled Victor had been when Yuuri let himself relax, Yuuri realises that maybe it _is_ alright for him to lose control and let go sometimes.

Victor passes out approximately six seconds after Yuuri cleans him up. Yuuri takes this as a compliment.

X

Yuuri can’t take his eyes off Victor the next day during practice. Utterly transfixed, his own training goes neglected as he watches his fiancé glide about the rink with all the grace and elegance of a fairy, awe-inspiring and beautiful. It’s unlike Yuuri to let himself become quite so distracted during training, but today, he just can’t help it. He grips the barrier with both hands, stomach diving and swooping with each breath-taking jump and stunning spin that Victor executes.

Last night, Yuuri gave another little piece of himself to Victor. Because of this, it’s made Yuuri feel inexplicably needy, and he’s spent much of today following Victor around and staring up at him with heart eyes like some sort of love-struck idiot.

He hasn’t told Victor _why_ he’s being so clingy because Victor would probably laugh and point out that he’s already seen Yuuri naked hundreds of times. Yuuri decides it’s best to just let his feelings go unspoken, instead conveying to Victor just how grateful he is for making Yuuri feel so comfortable last night through affectionate actions. It seems to be having a positive effect on Victor at least; he’s skating the best he’s skated all week, gaining little bursts of energy with each kiss that Yuuri presses to his lips.

A small smile plays on Yuuri’s mouth as he watches Victor slide into a simple camel spin, sneaking his phone out and snapping a few quick pictures of him. It still remains a mystery to Yuuri how this elegant, lithe beauty could ever be interested in someone as plain as him, but at this point, he’s happy enough not to question it.

Yuuri takes a moment to flick through the photos, selecting a gorgeous shot of Victor exiting the spin with a flourish, arm extended and hair flowing like a damn shampoo commercial. He has just enough time to upload the picture to Instagram before Victor notices him.

 _“Yuuuri!”_ Victor teases as he spins. “Not slacking, are we?”

Yuuri just shoots him a sheepish smile before putting his phone away and joining his love out on the ice.

At lunchtime, it’s Yuuri who’s the one all over Victor, uncharacteristically so. He stays firmly by Victor’s side for the duration of their break, holding Victor’s hand, stroking his arm and kissing his neck and cheek whenever he has the opportunity. Victor says nothing of it, in fact, he seems thrilled with Yuuri’s behaviour, but the other skaters are not quite as enamoured.

“Wow, Yuuri,” Mila says, a forkful of salad paused halfway to her lips as she watches Yuuri fawn over Victor in amazement. “Looks like Victor’s clinginess is rubbing off on you.”

Yuuri blinks at her with wide eyes before looking down at the way his and Victor’s sides are pressed together closely enough for there to be no gaps between them. He flushes cherry red and murmurs an apology to Mila as he shuffles away.

Victor is having none of it though, immediately closing the distance between them again and sliding an arm around Yuuri’s waist. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Mila!”

“What’s a bad thing?” Yurio asks, approaching their table and flopping down onto an empty seat with a frown.

“Yuuri and Victor’s PDA,” Mila says with a smirk. “Sometimes I feel like we’re watching the beginning of a porno.”

Yuuri buries his face in his hands but Victor just laughs, planting a smooch on Yuuri’s heated cheek.

“You both make me sick,” Yurio glares before turning his attention to his larger-than-average lunch.

As everybody else quietens down and begins to eat as well, Yuuri peeks over at Yurio. It’s been a few days since Yurio told him about JJ and whilst Yuuri hasn’t been able to speak to him about it since, Yurio seems to have marginally perked up. He’s eating more and he’s a little chattier than he’s been over the last couple of weeks (and by chattier, Yuuri means more prone to firing insults and yelling at people), so Yuuri is taking that as a sign of progress. Getting all of that off his chest must have been very therapeutic for Yurio.

That being said, Yuuri gets the feeling that Yurio is avoiding being alone with him now. Yuuri tries not to be too offended; Yurio is probably embarrassed after letting Yuuri see him vulnerable for once and he’ll need a bit of space before Yuuri tries to have an ‘emotional talk’ again.

When lunch is over everyone heads back to the rink, ambling along in no great rush and chatting about this and that. Yuuri is grateful that most of the time, the other skaters speak English around him despite not all of them being completely fluent, just to ensure he isn’t feeling left out.

“Hey, did you guys hear about Erik?” Mila suddenly says. “His coach is sending him to rehab. Something about a drinking problem.”

“Who’s Erik?” Yuuri frowns.

“One of the pair skaters,” Mila explains before adding, as though it’s vital information, “He’s pretty hot.”

“I, for one, am not surprised,” Georgi says.

“Such a shame,” Victor shakes his head. “You’d think an athlete would be able to take better care of their body.”

“You’re one to talk.”

The booming, gruff voice from behind them makes Yuuri jump a mile out of his skin, whipping around to see Yakov following them into the rink with his arms crossed.

“What do you mean?!” Victor scoffs at Yakov as they approach the benches. “I’ve never had a drinking problem!”

“No, but you don’t have the right to tell other athletes that they should be taking better care of their bodies. What did I catch you doing when you were sixteen?”

Victor’s eyes widen and his head suddenly drops like a child whose being scolded. He mumbles to the ground, “I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do.” Yakov cocks an eyebrow, daring Victor to deny whatever it is he is hinting at.

But Victor is stubborn, as always. “No, I don’t.”

“ _I_ remember,” Georgi says to Yakov as he changes into his skates. “You caught him smoking behind the bins outside with some of the older skaters.”

 _“Victor!”_ Yuuri scolds, horrified. “You smoked? That’s so irresponsible of you!”

Victor looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I… I know that _now!”_

Yuuri huffs. So not only was Victor out having sex with people at a young age, he was also smoking, too. Is there anything else Yuuri doesn’t know? Highly likely, at this point. “Why would you do such a thing? That would’ve been around the time of your senior division debut!”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Victor pouts. “The older skaters asked me to join them and I went along with it so they’d think I was cool. It was a _bonding_ experience. I only did it like, six times.”

“Until you were caught,” Georgi interjects with a smug look on his face.

Victor squints at him. “You’re just jealous that they never invited _you.”_

“Alright, that’s enough,” Yakov interrupts. “You can all learn from Erik and Victor’s mistakes. No skater of mine will be caught with a drinking problem or a damn cigarette in their mouth.”

“Yes, Yakov,” Mila and Georgi chant obediently.

“That means you as well, Yuri,” Yakov says with a glare.

Yurio rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I _mean_ it.”

“I _know.”_ Yurio huffs. “Don’t worry; I’m not as dumb as Victor was.”

“Hey!” Victor protests.

As Yakov marches off and Mila and Georgi continue to wind up Victor about the smoking, Yuuri takes the opportunity to perch beside Yurio on the bench for a quick, private catch up.

“You okay?” he says with a smile, going for a casual approach as to not freak Yurio out.

Yurio shrugs. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Yuuri’s shoulders droop and he immediately shuts up, not wanting to push Yurio’s boundaries if he isn’t in the mood to talk.

Yurio glances sideways and notices Yuuri’s sad expression, sighing once before muttering, “I’m okay. I actually feel a little better now.”

Yuuri perks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I guess it helped to… you know. Talk about it with you.”

Yuuri beams. “I’m glad. You know I’m always here if you need to talk again.”

Yurio nods. “Thanks, Katsudon.”

Their conversation is abruptly cut short by the sound of Mila shrieking, and they both snap their heads up to see what the fuss is about.

Victor is topless, leaning over his bag to pull out another shirt, and Mila and Georgi are stood behind him with matching open-mouthed expressions of glee.

Victor blinks at them over his shoulder, asking innocently, “What?”

“Victor…” Mila splutters, clearly on the verge of giggling. “Your _back.”_

“What about it?” Victor asks with a frown, spinning around and finally allowing Yuuri and Yurio to see what could have had such an effect on Mila and Georgi.

Yuuri’s eyes practically bug out of his head, mouth dropping as a hot flush rushes through his entire body. Two sets of scratch marks, four on each side of Victor’s spine in the exact same place that Yuuri’s fingernails had been last night, are displayed to everybody in the rink as clear as day. A wave of guilt joins the humiliation coursing through Yuuri’s veins at the sight of the scarlet marks, all of them long and rather painful-looking.

 _“Victor, put your shirt back on!”_ Yuuri hisses wildly.

“But it’s all sweaty; I need a short-sleeve!” Victor says with a pout.

“Bit late now, anyway,” Mila sniggers, phone out as she shows Victor the picture she’s just taken of him.

Victor blinks down at the photo for a few seconds before the tiniest smirk forms on his face, and he reaches into his bag to pull out a fresh shirt. “ _Ah_ , I see.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and huffs. Of _course_ Victor would feel smug about having the evidence of good sex literally scrawled all over him.

“Looks like someone had a good night, anyway,” Georgi says, giving Yuuri a knowing look that makes him want to dig himself a hole to crawl into.

“I know I say this all the time,” Yurio says with a scowl. “But you two are literally the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met.”

X

Later that night, settled on the couch and texting Phichit about the success of last night’s escapades, Yuuri decides to have a quick scroll through his Instagram. He’s momentarily surprised by the amount of notifications he has until he remembers the picture of Victor he shared earlier; Yuuri isn’t the most active of people on the app but the occasional photos he does post always go down well, especially if they feature Victor in some way.

His latest post has done _particularly_ well, already gathering more likes and comments in the space of half a day than the rest of his photos do over a week. Yuuri’s heart skips a beat as he gazes at the picture again, glancing up with a smile at the real Victor who is on the floor fiddling with the broken DVD player.

Several familiar user names have already liked Yuuri’s post; Phichit, Chris, Yuuko, Takeshi, Mila. Yuuri scrolls down further, opening the comments and having a quick scan through them.

And then he wishes he hadn’t.

 

 ** _victors-thighs_** omg i love him so much MARRY ME

 ** _kingxoxo_** god hes so fckin gorgeous

 ** _yurisno1angel_** just h*ck me up

 ** _xXviityaXx_** THE KING IS BACK

 ** _musicislife_** goddamn yuuri is so lucky

 ** _skatesara_** @yurisno1angel did u just censor heck

 ** _skatesara_** also victor may be jesus reincarnated

 ** _sk8queen_** fuck me gently with a chainsaw

 ** _vityaswife_** yall if yuuri katsuki can pull victor nikiforov then there’s hope for us all!!

 ** _pizzaandiceskates_** @vityaswife um rude, he might see this

 _ **friyay**_ @pizzaandiceskates @vityaswife wheres the lie tho

 

Yuuri quickly locks his phone and tosses it to the side, eyes stinging.

It’s not new information that Victor’s fans can get pretty crazy. They’ve been around for years and years, long before Yuuri and Victor even met. Hell, Yuuri kind of used to _be_ one of those smitten, screaming fans (though he probably would’ve drawn the line at that chainsaw comment).

Victor’s fan base doesn’t bother Yuuri. Victor is possibly the most decorated male skater in history and he is admired all over the globe so it’s understandable that people obsess over him as much as they do. Yuuri likes the fact that Victor has so much support, that no matter what happens, he’ll always have these people watching his performances and cheering him on.

But sometimes, it can all be a little too much. Victor’s fans have never been particularly cruel to Yuuri like he thought they might be after the very public kiss at the Cup of China, but this isn’t the first time he’s seen a comment hinting that Victor is way out of his league. It doesn’t happen often, but he remembers these comments above all others and no amount of positive things said about him can get him to forget them.

If, God forbid, Yuuri and Victor ever broke up, Victor would already have thousands of people waiting for him with open arms, many of them all younger, prettier and more confident than Yuuri. It’s an awful thought, that there are people out there literally waiting for their relationship to end just for the chance of having Victor for themselves. Yuuri doubts Victor would be so superficial to be tempted by the fans who throw themselves at him but that doesn’t mean that Yuuri is comfortable with the endless attention.

Yuuri swallows around the lump in his throat and peeks up at Victor who is now lying down on his stomach and whining about how many wires one television really needs.

How many of Victor’s fans would be confident enough to have sex with him with the lights on? How many of them wouldn’t even consider feeling embarrassed if they found themselves in such a position with their favourite skater? How many of them would be able to satisfy Victor better than Yuuri could ever hope to?

When the DVD player finally comes to life and Victor looks up at Yuuri with a proud grin, Yuuri can barely bring himself to return the sentiment.

Because isn’t that always just the way? As soon as he manages to gain a little bit of confidence, a thousand people find a way to rip it away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, so pleased to be uploading again! This chapter took a lot longer than I hoped it would; it was all fun and games until I got to the sexy scenes which had me banging my head against the keyboard more times than I cared to count (kudos to all the smut writers, for real)
> 
> I've planned out the rest of this story and I'm aiming for sixteen chapters, though that may change depending on how carried away I get lmao
> 
> Russian translation:  
> 'Dorogoy' - treasure, precious (thank you momentoftruth7!)
> 
> Also if you have the time please drop by and see me on tumblr! my url is [wing--it](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/) and I'm always around for a chat ❤


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Media interest in Victor continues to grow after his first interview since the announcement of his comeback. Is he able to handle the pressure? 
> 
> Warning: Mentions of past sexual assault.

“… and if you need anything, I’ll have my phone with me at all times. I promise I’ll answer straight away!”

 _“Victor,”_ Yuuri sighs, cutting off Victor’s rambling with a fond roll of his eyes. “You’re only going to be gone for the afternoon. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

Victor still doesn’t look completely convinced. “I know, but if there _is_ a problem or, you know, if you miss me too much then I –”

“For the last time, I’m not Makkachin!” Yuuri says with a laugh, pushing Victor towards the doors of the rink’s cafeteria where they currently stand. “Just _go_ , or Yakov will yell.”

“Okay, okay,” Victor finally concedes, adjusting his grip on the handle of his bag and leaning down to kiss Yuuri goodbye. “I’ll see you tonight, love.”

“See you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

At that, Victor heads off, leaving Yuuri to glance around the now deserted cafeteria with a sigh. Victor has gone with Yakov to do a photoshoot for _Pro Sports Weekly_ magazine as well as an interview dedicated to his much anticipated comeback. He’d been nervous about leaving Yuuri on his own at the rink for the first time and whilst Yuuri will admit to still being a little hesitant around the unfamiliar Russian skaters, his anxiety isn’t giving him too much grief about it.

Having just finished lunch, Yuuri heads back to the rink. He’d been the last skater to come off their break today since it’d taken so long to pacify Victor and send him on his way, so Yuuri makes his journey alone.

As he laces up his skates, he plans his afternoon out in his mind. Victor had instructed him to continue with the step sequence they’ve been working on this week, a complicated but elegant move which will hopefully, eventually be integrated into his Short Program for this season. The two of them have already selected the music, a beautiful piano piece that builds in intensity and finishes with a flourish.

Yuuri ties the last knot of his skate and pushes his shoes underneath the bench, resigning himself to a quiet, lonely afternoon without Victor, only to be momentarily distracted by a small shadow that casts over him.

He peeks up with wide eyes to see Yurio standing over him, dressed in leggings, a loose shirt and ballet pumps.

“Hi,” Yuuri says with a smile, remaining sitting down as to not tower over Yurio with his skates on.

“I’m going to the ballet studio,” is all Yurio says.

Yuuri just blinks, unsure of the point Yurio is trying to make. “Okay?”

Yurio clicks his tongue, looking mildly irritated. “Wanna come with?”

“N-now?” Yuuri asks with raised eyebrows. Then he quickly nods, smile returning. “Yeah, of course! I’ll just get changed out of my skates.”

Yurio waits for him with folded arms and when Yuuri is ready, Yurio silently leads them to the ballet studio. It’s only a short distance from their rink, still within the same gigantic building, but Yuuri hasn’t had the chance to come here yet. He’s been busy adjusting to the ice rink for the past couple of weeks, and there’s also a small part of him which is a little terrified of running into Lilia. The woman manages to appear even more intimidating than Yakov, which is impressive.

But Lilia is nowhere in sight when the two of them enter the studio. In fact, it’s completely empty save for them: the perfect, peaceful practice space. Yurio dumps his bag near the wall and immediately goes over to the barre to start stretching, leaving Yuuri to admire the surroundings.

It’s a much larger studio than Minako’s, though that’s not a surprise at this point; everything about the facilities in St. Petersburg is bigger and more impressive than Yuuri has ever seen before. The place is well looked after; polished, airy and light with mirrors completely covering two of the walls. Yuuri’s attention quickly falls to Yurio, who is holding onto the barre with one hand and his foot with the other as he extends his leg above his head in a perfect split.

Yurio is such a beautiful ballerina. It’s a shame that Minako didn’t get more of a chance to work with him when he visited Hasetsu last year, because Yuuri knows she would have loved that.

Yuuri shakes away his thoughts and roots around in his bag for his pumps, quickly changing into them before approaching the barre to carry out his own stretches. He keeps a careful distance between Yurio and he; whilst Yurio may have invited him along, Yuuri is always wary of overstepping his boundaries. Yurio can be as unpredictable as a tiger sometimes.

They stretch in silence. Whilst Yuuri is pleased to be able to spend time with Yurio, he still isn’t completely sure what Yurio wants of him. Is he simply looking for company? Does he want to continue their discussion about JJ? Yuuri certainly wants to. There are still several things he thinks they need to talk about, especially after mulling over everything Yurio told him the other day.

But Yuuri isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to just launch into that conversation with no warning, though. Yurio has already started to open up to him the tiniest amount, and Yuuri doesn’t want to undo that progress by backing him into a corner and pressuring him to talk.

“How come you’re on your own today?” Yurio suddenly asks, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts.

“Victor’s doing a photoshoot for _Pro Sports_. They want to interview him about his big comeback.”

Yurio snorts in amusement. “Big comeback, my ass. Like he stands a chance of beating us two.”

Yuuri laughs. “I don’t know about me, but you’ll definitely give him a run for his money.”

“You will as well, dummy.”

Yurio turns away to stretch his other leg, and Yuuri tries to hide his smile. If Victor was here right now he’d probably be gushing about how adorable Yurio can be in his own belligerent way sometimes.

For the next ten minutes or so the two of them go about their practice in companionable silence. Yuuri goes through the moves of his step sequence slowly, correcting his form in the mirror as he does so. He’s also keeping a subtle eye on Yurio as he leaps about the studio. Whilst Yurio has been a little perkier in the last few days, Yuuri can tell that his mind is still on JJ. He shows it in the tiniest of ways that wouldn’t be noticed by anyone apart from Yuuri, like how he kicks off over trivial things, how he curses just a little too loudly, or how he grows annoyed at the people around him much quicker than he used to.

Yurio is angry, and rightly so. JJ took something from him that wasn’t his to take, and whilst Yuuri is aware of the fact that JJ can be punished for his actions, he isn’t sure Yurio is. Yuuri wonders if he has even considered telling anybody else or perhaps contacting the police. All he knows is that he is wary of what Yurio’s reaction will be when he brings it up.

Yuuri is sure that Yurio is aware of his staring, no matter how discreet Yuuri tries to be. Yurio's shoulders have tensed up, stiff and awkward to the point of affecting his balance. He wobbles on his next few jumps until, on the fourth, he finally stumbles on the landing and lets out of a quiet groan of irritation.

Yuuri licks his lips, steels himself to finally breach the topic the two of them have been avoiding for days, and opens his mouth to speak.

But Yurio beats him to it. “Don’t.”

His voice is hard, quiet. It probably would’ve been threatening if Yuuri didn’t know how Yurio’s anger is simply a mask for his insecurities.

Yuuri swallows around nothing. “W-what?”

“I know what you’re about to say.” Yurio refuses to look at him. “And I’m telling you _don’t.”_

Yuuri sighs, giving up any pretence of not knowing what Yurio is getting at. “But Yurio… Victor came home before we could finish talking the other day. I know you want to forget what happened but there are still things we need to discuss.”

“Like what? It happened, it sucked, it’s over. Just drop it.”

But Yuuri _can’t_ drop it. Not until he knows that Yurio is truly okay and not just acting like he is simply because it’s easier to ignore his emotions than actually deal with them.

“Yurio… I completely understand that you don’t want to talk about this. But what JJ did…” Yuuri takes a breath, bracing himself to say the word that’s gone wholly unsaid during this whole debacle. “It was actually assault.”

The effect is immediate; Yurio flinches like he’s been struck and sinks further into himself, looking tinier than ever as he pulls at the fabric of his shirt. He pointedly refuses to make eye contact, and instead of getting mad and mouthing off like Yuuri thought he would, he stays completely silent.

Yuuri tries again, speaking in a more delicate tone of voice than before. “Have you considered maybe… pressing charges?”

“ _What?”_ Yurio’s head shoots up, and he looks at Yuuri with wide, panicked eyes. “No! Why would I do that?!”

Yuuri blinks. “B-because what JJ is punishable. He attacked you, and there should be consequences for his actions so that he doesn’t do the same thing to you or anyone else again.”

Yurio exhales sharply through his nose, expression turning stony as he approaches Yuuri with crossed arms. “Katsudon, stop trying to be a hero, okay? You promised the other day you were gonna keep this to your damn self.”

“I know I did, and I’m not going to break that promise –”

“So why are you pressuring me to go to the fucking _police?_ Do you have any idea how fast the media would find out about that? Then the whole world and its mother would know what happened!”

“You don’t know that,” Yuuri says weakly. “Is that the only reason you don’t want to go to the police? In case the media got a hold of it?”

Yurio scowls. “I don’t want to go to the police because that would be the _opposite_ of forgetting about it. I don’t want anybody to know, I just want it to be over and for you to _stop talking about it.”_

Yurio turns away, kicking his bag and grumbling to himself in Russian. Yuuri sighs to himself. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone as stubborn as Yurio. But Yurio has the right to make his own decisions and even though Yuuri might not always agree with them, as Yurio’s friend, he has the responsibility to support him.

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri concedes. “You don’t want anyone to know, I get that. How about if _I_ spoke to JJ? Would you let me do that?”

Yurio gives him a funny look, partly horrified, partly amazed. After a few seconds of evaluating Yuuri, Yurio sighs heavily and takes a couple of steps closer to him again. The tension seems to have drained from his body, leaving his posture slumped and tired-looking.

“Look, Yuuri,” he says, making Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot up at the sound of his real name. He doesn’t think Yurio has _ever_ called him by his real name before. “I get that you’re trying to help. But really, I just want to forget the whole thing. I told you because I needed to tell _someone_ , I was going kinda crazy thinking about it all the time. But I’ve got it off my chest now, and I want that to be the end of it. Okay?”

His voice is soft in a way Yuuri has never heard it before but there’s still an element of decisiveness to it that leaves no room for debate. Yuuri stares at him, torn, for a long moment before ducking his head and nodding.

Yurio seems satisfied with Yuuri’s response, and his eyes drop down to his shirt as he fiddles with a loose piece of thread on the hem. Several awkward seconds pass before Yurio mumbles, “What would you even say to him, anyway?”

Yuuri gulps, that same ball of fire bubbling away in his chest as he considers the _many_ things he’s thought about saying to JJ this past week. “Well, I’d probably open with a swift slap to his face.”

Yurio snorts in amusement, the sound of it dissolving a small amount of the tension in the studio.

Yuuri smiles too, spurred on by Yurio’s response. “And then I’d launch into my ten page speech describing in graphic detail just _how_ much of a douche he is, starting with the ridiculous song he had made for him and working my way down to that lower back tattoo. Because _really_ , who gets a tattoo of their own initials? Is it to remind him of his own name in case he forgets?”

Yurio sniggers, a genuine laugh bubbling from his lips.

The sound is like music to Yuuri’s ears, and he beams. Then his face settles into something more solemn. “And then I’d tell him how ashamed he should be of himself, and that I hope the guilt he’s feeling is keeping him up at night because he doesn’t deserve to just carry on with his own life as if nothing happened.”

Yurio immediately clams up, gaze dropping to the floor. “That seems like an overreaction.”

“He hurt you. He _frightened_ you –”

“Look, he was just drunk.” Yurio looks exasperated. “It was a stupid, drunken accident –”

“ _So?_ That doesn’t make it okay. _I’ve_ been drunk many times and so have ninety nine percent of people I know, but have any of us ever _assaulted_ someone after too many drinks? Alcohol doesn’t count as an excuse.”

Yurio rolls his eyes, holding a weak hand up as though to silence Yuuri. “Stop using that word, alright? You’re making it out to sound worse than it actually was.”

Yuuri bristles. “I know it’s hard to hear, but that’s exactly what it was. He forced himself on you and I just think we needed to address that properly.”

“You’re not my damn mother, okay? Calm down.”

Yuuri sighs to himself. He knows he’s winding Yurio up but what else is he supposed to do? He tries again in a softer tone of voice, taking extra care to appear more level-headed than he actually feels. “I’m not trying to be your mother, Yuri. I’m just trying to help you. You confided in me for a reason and I want to make sure you’re doing okay, and that you’re not just pushing this under the rug.”

“Well, just drop it, okay?” Yurio snaps. “Because you’re making me regret telling you in the first place.”

That immediately shuts Yuuri up, heart sinking under the weight of his own failure. Being the only person to know what happened, Yuuri has a responsibility of care over Yurio and he doesn’t want to make him even more upset than he already is (even if Yurio tries to hide it behind a thick layer of attitude).

Yuuri can’t make Yurio go to the police, or tell anybody else about what happened, not if Yurio doesn’t want to do any of those things. Whilst Yuuri would like to see JJ suffer real consequences for his actions, he can’t do anything without Yurio’s permission first.

The tension in the room is palpable and impossible to ignore. Yurio is frowning, a deep scowl etched upon his delicate, pretty features as he stares down at the floor in front of Yuuri. His arms are folded, defensive, and Yuuri knows he’s not going to get anything else out of him today.

Yuuri quietly moves over to where their bags sit in the corner of the room, collecting his own and swinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m going back to the rink now,” he says. “Victor will kill me if I don’t practice this step sequence while he’s gone.”

Yurio nods. “I’ll come with you. I’m done here, too.”

Yuuri decides not to bring up the fact that they’ve only been here for barely twenty five minutes and just nods in response instead. He waits for Yurio to pick up his things and then heads out of the studio.

Yurio falls into step beside him. Yuuri almost jumps out of his skin at the feeling of an arm suddenly linking through his, and he turns with wide eyes to see a faint blush tinting Yurio’s cheeks as he stares straight ahead, giving no indication that he’s going to acknowledge their now joined arms.

It’s probably best to not say anything about it. Yuuri just smiles privately to himself and allows Yurio to drag him back to the rink, breathing a small sigh of relief that he hasn’t permanently messed up their budding friendship.

X

Victor arrives home that evening as Yuuri is preparing dinner, bursting through the door like the hurricane that he is and shouting out, _“Yuuuri!”_

Yuuri smiles to himself and waits for Victor to come to him. Victor enters the kitchen with a wide smile, planting a smacking kiss on Yuuri’s cheek and making him giggle.

“Hi, Victor,” Yuuri murmurs, amused. “How did it go today?”

“It was great! They asked me all about my comeback and what I have planned already, and I told them how happy I am to be training with you in Russia. They even let me have some early copies of the photos, look!”

Victor turns to fish around in his bag, pulling out his phone. As he searches, Yuuri finishes chopping up his tomatoes and sets the knife aside.

“Here!” Victor says when he’s got them up on his screen. “They’re just low quality because I took them on my phone and I’m sure they’ll be airbrushed later.”

Yuuri frowns at that. “They shouldn’t need to Photoshop your pictures, Victor, you’re already beautiful.”

“Aww, Yuuri!” Victor teases, mouth forming that adorable heart-shaped smile that Yuuri loves so much.

Yuuri blushes, head ducking. Thankfully Victor doesn’t try to embarrass him any more than that, apparently too eager to show off his photos. He thrusts his phone under Yuuri’s nose, swiping through the pictures and chattering away about each individual shot.

Yuuri barely listens, eyes bugging out of his head as he stares at the small screen in front of him. Each photo seems to remove more and more moisture from his mouth, leaving it dry enough to make him cough.

The photos are… _stunning_ , of course. And so… very… revealing. Victor begins the photoshoot in an all-black suit, perfectly tailored and very flattering. His expression is serious, sultry, staring down the camera with those shocking blue eyes. As the pictures go on his shirt gets unbuttoned until most of his chest is exposed, then the suit jacket is lost altogether.

Then his pants go too, and Yuuri nearly has a stroke.

The final picture is arguably the best one: Victor stands with his hips cocked to the side like he’s dancing, clad only in black boxer-briefs, his half unbuttoned shirt and an undone tie that swings from around his neck. One hand is in his hair, and he’s smirking at the camera with an undeniable glint of mischief in his bright eyes.

Yuuri bites his lip. The photos have certainly awoken his body in more ways than one, but as well as the lust that now courses through his veins, Yuuri finds himself going hot for a completely different reason, too.

These pictures are going to be published in _Pro Sports Weekly_ , a rather popular magazine which is read by many, many people. Every single one of those readers is going to blessed with these images of a half-naked Victor, and they’re all going to be ogling him, probably thirsting after him too if they’ve got working eyes…

“Wow,” is all Yuuri manages to choke out, picking up another tomato that he really doesn’t need to chop and chucking it down onto his chopping board, slicing it with more speed and aggression than necessary.

Victor misinterprets Yuuri’s response, and he asks sadly, “You don’t like them?”

“I…” Yuuri lets out a small sigh, setting aside his knife and squeezing Victor’s hand. “They’re _gorgeous_ , Victor. I love them. I just didn’t realise you’d be showing so much skin, that’s all.”

Victor frowns down at his phone, confused. “Really? I’ve done way worse than this. Remember that cologne ad I did in Paris?”

All too well. Yuuri squashes down that particular memory and smiles up at his fiancé. “I know, but that was _before_ we got together. It’s different now, you know? I’m not sure I like the idea of so many people seeing you this way anymore.”

Victor finally realises what Yuuri is getting at, and his face stretches into a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat’s. “ _Yuuuri_ , are you feeling a bit _possessive?”_

Yuuri’s cheeks catch fire, and he quickly resumes chopping the tomato in an attempt to avoid Victor’s eyes.

Victor is undeterred. “Yuuri! You’re too sweet; I think you’ve given me a toothache!”

He sweeps Yuuri up into a hug, making Yuuri squawk as he almost drops his knife. “Victor!”

He hugs Victor back regardless, hiding his still flushed face against Victor’s shoulder.

“I think it’s cute that you feel that way,” Victor murmurs against Yuuri’s hair, his tone still teasing and playful but with an undercurrent of seriousness. “I don’t like the idea of people seeing you like that either. Of course you’re beautiful and everyone knows that, but there are some things about you that I want to selfishly keep to myself.”

Yuuri almost scoffs. He doesn’t have nearly as many crazy fans as Victor does so having people think of him in that way is hardly something Victor needs to bother worrying about.

Yuuri doesn’t give a verbal answer, so Victor goes on. “Do you want me to call the magazine and ask them to do a reshoot?”

“What? No, of course not.” Yuuri could never ask him to do that; Victor is obviously proud of the photos and they’ve all been beautifully shot. It’d be a shame to undo the photographer’s work. “I just… don’t want people to forget that you’re mine now.”

“Yuuri, you can’t just _say_ these things!” Victor exclaims, pulling away to clutch his chest. “You’re going to kill me one of these days!”

Yuuri pokes him, sniggering as he says, “You’re such a dork.”

Victor beams. “Yes, but I’m _your_ dork.”

X

“What the fuck am I looking at?” Yurio snaps as he glares down at Victor’s phone, which Victor had forced into his hand approximately three seconds ago.

“My pictures from the shoot yesterday! Cool, right?” Victor beams. Ever since Yuuri and he arrived at practice this morning, Victor has been showing off the pictures to anyone in his line of sight.

Yurio looks less than impressed. He shoves the phone back into Victor’s hand. “Get this out of my face.”

Victor just shrugs. “Yuuri thought it was sexy.”

Yuuri splutters and Yurio gags, just as Mila, Georgi and Yakov approach them where they are currently warming up rink-side.

“Yuuri thought what was sexy?” Mila smirks, dropping her bag onto the ground.

Victor is all too happy to pass his phone on to Mila and Georgi, who both whistle in response to the pictures. Yakov doesn’t even bother looking, having had the pleasure of seeing the real thing yesterday.

“Very aesthetically pleasing, Victor, well done,” Mila says as she hands his phone back. “Yakov, I’m surprised you’re not steaming at the ears from Victor getting his kit off yet again. Paparazzi will probably go crazy around here.”

Yakov rolls his eyes. “This is tame. I’ve had to put up with much worse from him in the past.”

Victor tucks his phone away, not fazed in the slightest by Yakov’s comment (though he rarely is). “Psh, I’ve never done anything _that_ bad, Yakov!”

“Oh really?” Yakov’s eyebrow raises, always a sign of danger. Having known Victor as long as he has, Yakov always has fifty stories up his sleeve about Victor and his younger, more naïve ways. “How about that ridiculous shoot you did as soon as you hit sixteen?”

Victor seems to immediately know the one Yakov is talking about, and his eyes widen. “Hey, that was my publicist’s idea!”

At Yuuri’s questioning look, Yakov explains to him in a gruff voice, “It was one of his first shoots and I let him go without me, with a new publicist. The next day he came prancing into my office to show me the prints; he was wearing nothing in them but a pair of skates and his damn track jacket.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and Yurio gags again.

“It was done tastefully!” Victor protests. “You couldn’t see any of the naughty bits.”

“I nearly had a heart attack,” Yakov snaps back. “That’s the reason I stopped hiring publicists for my skaters and decided I’d look after you idiots myself.”

“I’ve never seen those pictures?” Mila frowns.

“I gave the magazine a very large pay-off for them to not publish the photos,” Yakov grunts. “I’ve wasted a lot of money fixing Vitya’s mistakes over the years.”

Victor just smiles, turning to Mila and saying, “I’ll see if I can find the pictures for you! I might have them on one of my old laptops somewhere.”

Yakov huffs. “Twenty-eight years old and he still doesn’t listen to a word I say.”

Yuuri smirks as he glances at Victor. Every exasperated story that Yakov shares helps Yuuri piece together in his mind an idea of what Victor was like when he was younger, since Victor is so closed off about telling Yuuri himself. “It sounds like you were a handful, Victor.”

“He’s a minx,” Yakov scowls. “He’s always been a minx.”

Victor only beams again, which Yakov rolls his eyes at. The back-and-forth that the two of them always share makes Yuuri think about how Victor used to live with Yakov, and that there’s something very parental about the way Yakov acts with him. Yuuri can’t imagine Yurio, Mila or Georgi getting away with the same crap that Victor does.

“Wait a second,” Yurio says with a frown. “Why was Victor doing shoots and stuff when he was sixteen? You said I’m not allowed until I’m eighteen!”

“For that exact reason,” Yakov says. “After that little nightmare with Vitya I said I wouldn’t let any of my skaters do shoots like that until I felt they were old enough.”

“But that’s not fair!” Yurio spits. “I could’ve gotten loads more publicity and sponsors if I did that kind of stuff. I’m not Victor, I’m not gonna parade around naked all the time!”

“Don’t argue with me, Yuri.”

Yurio stands poised with his mouth still open for a few seconds as though he’s internally debating if a telling off from Yakov would be worth it. In the end, he seems to decide it wouldn’t be, and he closes his mouth before stomping away.

As he passes Victor, he snaps something vicious in Russian. Victor looks taken aback, face paling slightly, and he turns to hurry after Yurio attempting to apologise.

Yuuri sidles up to Yakov, feeling grateful that he is able to provide some insight into just who Yuuri’s fiancé was before he met him because Victor is still something of an enigma to him. “I feel like I need to congratulate you for enduring Victor for so long.”

Yakov only sighs, taking his hat off to rub his bald spot. “Sixteen year old Vitya is the reason I lost half my hair.”

X

Victor’s _Pro Sports Weekly_ interview gets published two weeks later. As predicted, the internet blows up over the pictures, fangirls everywhere swooning and screaming in caps lock on every social media platform. There’s also an increase in paparazzi who now wait for Victor every morning and evening outside the rink to quiz him even more about the things he’d said in his interview, all of them trying to get a quote or picture to add fuel to the media frenzy currently surrounding him.

Aside from the occasional bouts of protectiveness Yuuri feels whenever he sees comments from particularly devoted fans on Victor’s Instagram (‘ICE DADDY’ seems to be favourite phrase amongst them), he doesn’t necessarily mind all of the attention his fiancé is getting. JJ may have tried to take the crown when he had that ridiculous song composed, but Victor will always be the real King of skating.

Several nights after the article had been published Yuuri pads over to the couch, clutching his customary mug of chamomile tea with both hands and yawning widely. It’s fairly late, and he’s already dressed for bed in one of Victor’s long-sleeved t-shirts and an oversized pair of boxers. Victor is still sitting on the couch, laptop resting on his thighs and reading something with a tiny crease between his eyebrows. He doesn’t seem to hear Yuuri approaching.

When Yuuri is close enough, he peeks over Victor’s shoulder to see that he is reading some sort of article. The headline immediately catches his attention so Yuuri squints his eyes as he quietly skims over the article himself.

 

_ Nikiforov’s grand comeback – what should we expect? _

_Victor Nikiforov is returning back to competitive skating after a yearlong break and if you didn’t already know that, how’s that rock you’ve been living under? Of course we are all excited for the return of everyone’s favourite skater but it’s safe to say a lot of us are kind of worried, too._

_Nikiforov, now twenty-eight, broke the news of his return shortly after his student and fiancé, Katsuki Yuuri broke his world record (was someone feeling bitter, we wonder?) The announcement came as quite a shock with many believing the legendary skater would retire for good after his break. And now, with Nikiforov not getting any younger, should we feel guilty for thinking he’d be better off retiring?_

_With so much younger competition in the form of Jean-Jacques Leroy (providing he doesn’t suffer another anxiety attack mid-performance), dark horse Otabek Altin, late bloomer Katsuki Yuuri and the current champion, the unstoppable force that is Yuri Plisetsky, we can’t help but think that Nikiforov’s glory days may have come to an end._

_Should he have retired on a high note, after his fifth consecutive Grand Prix win? Or should he continue with the likely possibility of being outshone by another skater? I think we can all agree we’d rather Nikiforov be healthy than –_

 

Yuuri stops reading there, unable to read another word of somebody doubting his fiancé. It’s nothing new for Victor’s age to be brought up by the media; after all, he is well past the average age that skaters usually retire at. But Victor isn’t just an average skater. He’s a living legend, and he’s always been leagues above everyone who dared to challenge him. Victor has never allowed his age to hold him back, and Yuuri doesn’t think Victor will let it affect him now. Will he?

There’s going to be a lot of attention on Victor this season. There have already been whispers of Victor’s position as the star of Russia being taken over by Yurio, who is expected to carry on Victor’s legacy, and Victor will need to prove that there’s still plenty of room for the both of them up at the top.

Victor’s confidence has always inspired Yuuri and he doesn’t want it to be diminished in any way, shape or form, especially not by some trashy article that only lives to get clicks from bored fans wanting to stir up some drama during the off-season.

“Vitya?” Yuuri says delicately.

Victor shoots up, immediately minimising the webpage and looking up at Yuuri with a sheepish smile. “You snuck up on me, love.”

Yuuri gives a small, hesitant smile back. He could of course question Victor why he’s reading an article like this in the first place but he knows that Victor wouldn’t appreciate such a conversation, especially not now when they’re both tired from a long day of practice. Yuuri knows all too well how private Victor can be with his emotions.

So Yuuri just reaches out a hand and strokes through Victor’s hair, murmuring, “You wanna go to bed?”

Victor looks grateful that Yuuri doesn’t push him, shoulders sagging ever so slightly. He nods, melting into the touch of Yuuri’s hand. “Yeah. I’ll be in in a minute, _dorogoy.”_

“Okay.” Yuuri removes his hand, and then whistles gently at Makkachin where he sits at Victor’s feet. “C’mon, Makka. Bed time!”

Makkachin jumps up and trots after Yuuri on his way to the bedroom, nails clacking gently on the wooden floor. Yuuri sighs as he sits down on the bed, sipping his tea as he absently scratches behind Makkachin’s ear.

Victor has never been the type to allow other people’s words to bring him down, not in the way that Yuuri gets affected by such things. Victor knows what his goal is, he knows what he’s capable of, and nothing will stop him from achieving exactly what he wants. It’s a skill that not many athletes possess, the ability to believe in oneself no matter what and not allow the pressures of others to hurt them. Victor has always appeared unattainable this way, cool and effortless, which sets him apart from the other skaters and contributes to his status as a legend.

But the fact that he’s reading such things about himself, perhaps even actively seeking out these articles, is definitely something that Yuuri is going to have to keep an eye on. Yuuri has never seen Victor get self-conscious before, and all he knows is that he isn't sure he wants to find out what that might look like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yuuri, taking on burdens left, right and centre.
> 
> If anyone has any concerns or feels like I'm not handling Yurio's situation properly, please let me know. Whilst I've never been in that situation myself, I know that when something bad happens to me or if I'm not feeling well I react like Yurio - once I've gotten something off my chest I hate to keep being reminded of it and I often close myself off, especially to the person I talked to because I feel embarrassed for showing emotions. This may not always be the healthiest reaction but it's certainly a very real one to me!
> 
> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos and comments! It makes me so happy to see what you guys think of this. And come find me on tumblr if you like, my url is [wing--it](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> p.s. I'm so tempted to write a fic about young Victor, I just have this headcanon that when he was younger he was the most impulsive pain in the ass and Yakov would spend his days cleaning up after him like the long-suffering parent that he is haha. Maybe when this fic is finished!
> 
> p.p.s. When I was imagining Victor's photoshoot I kind of pictured this amazing [fanart](http://blau678.tumblr.com/post/158280911384) I saw on tumblr, it's so lovely!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor accidentally upsets Yurio, and Yuuri gets an opportunity to be the spotlight for once.

A month has passed since the release of Victor’s interview with _Pro Sports Weekly_ , and everyone seems to have fallen into a comfortable routine. St. Petersburg is finally catching up with the rest of the world and the first signs of summer are beginning to show; gardens are blooming and the skies are clear, making room for the sun that now shines long into the evenings. It’s a stark contrast to how Yuuri remembers St. Petersburg looking when he first arrived here, when everything was grey, bitter and unforgiving.

Victor in particular seems to like the newfound sunshine. Being as bright and beautiful as he is, he seems to have a lot in common with it, and it instils him with even more energy than before. Later and later he’s staying at the rink because of this, telling Yuuri that he never likes to waste a day by finishing training too early. Yuuri tries to persuade him not to stay too late, worrying that Victor will overwork his body, but Victor is nothing if not stubborn.

Yuuri thinks that Victor wanting to stay so late everyday has less to do with practising under the light of the sun and more to do with the increasing pressure from fans and media that he is under. Victor is constantly barraged both online and in person about how his new routines are coming along, how he’s managing to train both Yuuri and himself at the same time, how he’s coping with the physical demands of training for a new season again, how he plans to beat Yurio and everybody else who made it to the Final last year…

If Victor _is_ truly bothered by all of the questions and attention, he doesn’t show it. He is still smiley and radiant, still gracious when it comes to speaking with paparazzi and answering fans’ tweets. He doesn’t say a word about such things to Yuuri. The _only_ sign of stress that Yuuri can sense on his fiancé is the long hours of training and even that isn’t concrete proof, with the Russian team confirming that Victor has always been a workaholic when it comes to skating.

Yuuri is torn. He wants to tell Victor that if he is feeling pressured, he can unload his worries on Yuuri because they’re engaged and that’s what people in a relationship do for each other. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to scare Victor away. If Yuuri thought Yurio could be closed off when it comes to talking about feelings, Victor is on a whole other level. He knows that Victor still wants Yuuri to think of him as an idol, which Yuuri does, but the Victor he used to fawn over when he was a teenager and the Victor he knows now are two different people. Yuuri doesn’t want the Victor from his posters anymore, the unreachable, flawless Skating God. He just wants his fiancé, and regardless of any fears or insecurities that Victor may have, Yuuri will still want him.

He just isn’t sure that Victor is aware of this.

Victor training late is now a part of the routine they have settled into. Most of the other skaters will clear out around five thirty, and Yuuri will stick around with Victor for another hour or so until he gets too tired. It’s a regular occurrence now for Yuuri to go home alone, with Victor returning later on. It doesn’t happen every day, even Victor isn’t stupid enough to train for _that_ many hours a week, but it’s still more often than Yuuri would like.

There is one positive that has arisen from this little routine, though. When Victor chooses to stay later, Yurio will accompany Yuuri home and they’ll hang out together for a few hours, watching TV or chatting about whatever comes to mind. Yurio claims that he only stays with Yuuri because he can cook better than Yakov, but given that Yurio always stays well after they’ve eaten dinner, Yuuri suspects that may not be the only reason. Most of the time they’ll wait for Victor to come home so the three of them can eat together; like a family, Victor had pointed out once, which had made Yurio throw his own shoe at him.

This evening is no different from their routine. Victor is still at the rink and will be for another half an hour or so and Yuuri and Yurio are lounging in the living room, scrolling through their phones and grunting about aching muscles after a tough afternoon of practice.

Yurio suddenly snorts from where he sits on the floor, making Yuuri blink up at him with a bemused smile.

“Hey, Katsudon, look,” Yurio says, shuffling closer until he’s sitting beneath Yuuri’s place on the couch. He hands his phone up to Yuuri. “I found a blog full of pictures of Victor mid-jumps.”

“What’s funny about that?” Yuuri asks, but then he looks down at the screen and splutters.

The picture that greets him is what he can only describe as the most unflattering picture of Victor he has ever seen, halfway through what looks like an axel with his face completely windswept from the sheer force of the jump. Yuuri keeps scrolling only to discover an even worse photo below, cackling at Victor’s squished cheeks and squinting eyes. He angles the phone so Yurio can see the full screen too and they end up going through most of the blog, laughing together at each individual picture.

Yuuri glances at Yurio as they giggle, the sight of him acting so light-hearted warming Yuuri’s heart. Over the past few weeks, the two of them haven’t spoken explicitly about JJ per Yurio’s request, but Yuuri has been keeping on eye on the teen as often as he can. Yurio seems to be doing better; he’s eating more (though still not as much as he perhaps should be for a boy of his age) and he is definitely much more relaxed around Yuuri. Things certainly aren’t perfect yet, but it’s a start.

When Yuuri’s ribs begin to hurt from all the laughing he hands the phone back to Yurio, brushing away a stray tear from his eye and saying, “You know I think Victor is beautiful no matter what but _this,_ this is stretching my love to its very limits.”

“I’m bookmarking it. This’ll be _so_ good for blackmail.”

Yuuri laughs again, and then winces as he clutches his side. “ _Ow_ , that’s actually given me a stitch.”

“By far the best thing I’ve seen all week,” Yurio says, tucking his phone away just as the sound of the front door being unlocked can be heard.

“Hi!” Victor calls out, taking a moment to get rid of his jacket and shoes before entering the living room. Just the sight of him sets Yuuri and Yurio off again, both of them trying to remain straight-faced but quickly losing it as their laughter explodes out of them.

Victor looks thoroughly bewildered. “ _What?_ What’s so funny?”

Yuuri wipes his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. “I think its best we don’t tell you, my love.”

Victor pouts, climbing onto the couch and clambering on top of Yuuri like an oversized puppy. “Yuuuri!”

Yurio looks affronted by the sudden onslaught of affection, scrambling away from them and settling down a safe distance away on the armchair. Yuuri continues to tease Victor, squirming away from him until he ends up practically lying down. Victor goes with him, laying all of his body weight on top of Yuuri and burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

“You two are so mean to me,” Victor says, voice muffled against Yuuri’s skin.

Yurio snorts. “Only because you deserve it.”

Yuuri giggles, stroking Victor’s hair to pacify him. “How was the rest of your practice?”

“Yeah, didn’t put a hip out, did you, old man?” Yurio says.

Victor tilts his head to free his mouth, allowing him to speak properly. “It went very well, thank you for asking. I think the basis for my short program is almost finished.”

“Already?” Yuuri tries to keep the surprise from his voice. Victor is already nearly finished with one of his routines? Yuuri’s short program isn’t even close to being complete yet.

“Mhm. It still needs a lot of ironing out, though.” Victor looks up at Yuuri, eyes big and hopeful. “Yuuri, I haven’t had a welcome home kiss yet!”

“Ugh,” Yurio scowls. “Are you trying to make me barf before dinner?”

Victor ignores him, shuffling closer to Yuuri and trying to capture his lips. Yuuri doesn’t let him; for one, there’s a chance that Yurio may actually barf and he certainly doesn’t want to deal with that mess, and for another, it’s always fun to wind Victor up.

Victor whines when Yuuri turns his face away. “Yuuri! I wanna kiss you!”

“Nope!” Yuuri squirms beneath Victor’s body, giggling softly as he tries to avoid the attempted kisses. “Victor, stop it!”

 _“Please!”_ Victor tickles down Yuuri’s side, landing kisses on Yuuri’s cheek as he tries to reach his target.

Yuuri playfully pushes him away. “Never!”

Victor leans closer to try one more time, only to be interrupted by the sound of a loud, strained voice.

_“Hey.”_

The two of them freeze in place as they look up at Yurio, who is glaring at Victor with undisguised venom.

“He said he doesn’t want to kiss you, so _get off him.”_

Yuuri’s heart sinks like an anchor, and his face crumples with the guilt that flushes through him. Of course Victor hadn’t known what he’d been doing but it had still been enough to remind Yurio of what happened; his wounds are still fresh without enough time to heal properly. Yuuri is ashamed of himself for not thinking.

Victor slowly gets off Yuuri and the two of them sit up straighter. Yuuri says in a quiet voice, “W-we were just playing, Yurio…”

Victor, bless his heart, doesn’t understand the reaction he’s provoked. He blinks at Yurio with confused puppy eyes and says, “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Yurio’s cheeks are pink, and his tone is hostile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Victor looks to Yuuri for help but Yuuri just gives him a half-smile, squeezing his bicep in a silent request for Victor to drop it. Several seconds of awkward silence stretch out between them, until Yuuri says, “Is everyone ready for dinner? I’ve got pork ramen in the slow cooker.”

Victor perks up. “Sounds delicious! I’m just going to take a quick shower first.”

“Okay. We’ll set the table.”

Victor leaves, and Yuuri casts an unsure look over at Yurio who is staring a hole into the floor.

“You hungry?” Yuuri asks delicately.

Yurio just shrugs. Yuuri releases a short, tight breath before standing up and approaching the armchair, holding out one hand and waiting patiently. Yurio stares at his hand for a long moment before reaching out and silently taking it.

Yuuri squeezes his hand, soothing away Yurio’s trembles and murmuring, “Remember that Victor doesn’t know what happened. He would never intentionally hurt me, you, or anybody else for that matter.”

Yurio sighs. “Yeah, I know. I just panicked.”

Yuuri nods. “I know, and that’s okay. I should’ve been more thoughtful, I’m sorry.”

Yurio finally looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly more like himself again. “Don’t be sorry, dummy. It’s not your fault.”

Yuuri just smiles, gently pulling Yurio up from the chair and leading him to the kitchen where they quietly set the table together. Victor returns from his shower, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, just as Yuuri is dishing up the food.

“It smells amazing, love,” Victor says with a smile as he sits down, sneaking a glance over at Yurio.

“Thank you,” Yuuri beams, placing the three bowls down and taking his seat at the table as well.

They eat in companionable silence, the quiet sound of the TV and Makkachin padding around looking for scraps providing enough comfortable background noise for them.

Victor keeps looking over at Yurio. He doesn’t say anything to him, but he does slide a few slices of his bread towards Yurio in a silent peace offering.

Yuuri smiles. Victor and Yurio have always communicated with each other better through actions rather than words, and despite all of the insults and teasing that they both subject each other to, there is always an unspoken, shared sense of understanding between them.

Yurio accepts the bread, and gives Victor some of his baby spinach in return because its Victor’s favourite. The small gestures touch Yuuri, though it doesn’t completely diminish his guilt over being partly responsible for Yurio’s brief outburst. Victor can’t be blamed for what happened since he couldn’t have known Yurio would be affected like that, but Yuuri has a responsibility of care over Yurio, and he can’t break Yurio’s trust by being thoughtless. Yuuri makes a promise to himself to be more considerate from now on.

X

A few mornings a week, Victor goes to the gym that’s situated on the floor above the rink for cardio training and weight lifting sessions. Yuuri doesn’t always accompany him; he much prefers to go for a run or practice ballet rather than be confined within a gym. Today whilst Victor is working out, Yuuri spends some solo time in the ballet studio (which he has been frequenting more often since he came here with Yurio).

After almost an hour has passed, Yuuri packs up his things and heads over to the gym, planning to meet Victor there so they can walk back to the rink together.

Yuuri opens the doors to the gym, and almost laughs at the sight that greets him. Victor is on the floor doing press-ups with Yurio draped along his back like Rose DeWitt Bukater being drawn like a French girl, casually scrolling through his phone as Victor works out. Neither of them hear Yuuri come in over the sound of ‘Work Bitch’ blasting on the gym’s speakers, so Yuuri takes the opportunity to film a short, sneaky video of them for uploading to Instagram later.

He finally announces his presence as he’s tucking his phone away, turning the volume down on the speaker as he passes it and saying, “Hi!”

Victor smiles up at Yuuri and lowers himself to the ground, Yurio rolling off him to allow Victor to sit up.

“Hi, love!” Victor says cheerily as Yurio gives his own grunt to greet Yuuri.

“How many did you do?” Yuuri asks, nodding to the mat that Victor was just working out on.

“Thirty in two minutes,” Victor says with a sigh, wiping his forehead with a towel. “Yurio is too light. I’ll get Georgi to sit on me next time.”

Yurio rolls his eyes. “Thank fuck.”

“Language,” Victor scolds mildly. “Oh, hey, Yuuri, good news!”

Yuuri and Yurio both eye each other suspiciously. Victor’s definition of good news does not always match with everyone else’s.

“What is it?” Yuuri asks with hesitance.

“I got an email from _Pro Sports Weekly_. They said that since my interview with them went down so well, they wanted to know if they could do one with you as well!”

Yuuri’s mind immediately goes to the photos that _Pro Sports_ had taken of Victor in all his sexy, half-naked glory, and Yuuri immediately blanches. No, there is _no way_ he could let himself be photographed like that for the world to see. Absolutely not. No.

“I can’t,” Yuuri says weakly.

Victor frowns. “Of course you can. Why couldn’t you?”

“B-because.” Yuuri feels his cheeks go hot, and he starts to fiddle with his fingernails. “I-I’m not _you_ , I can’t… take pictures like that.”

Victor smiles softly. “No one would expect you to take your clothes off, Yuuri; you’d just do whatever makes you comfortable.”

Whilst that eases Yuuri’s anxiety a little, it’s still not enough to persuade him. “Still, it’s different for me. Everybody wants to see _you_ in a magazine; I doubt they’d think the same about me. I… I’m not pretty like you are.”

Victor’s entire face drops, looking as though Yuuri has personally insulted him.

“Yuuri, of _course_ people would want to see your pictures, you’re _gorgeous,”_ Victor says earnestly, eyes big and pleading. “Yurio! Tell Yuuri how beautiful he is.”

Yurio looks up from his phone, doing a double take at Victor’s crestfallen expression and Yuuri’s anxious fidgeting. Eventually, he rolls his eyes and sighs, “Katsudon, sometimes you don’t look like a total troll.”

“See!” Victor says with a smile. “You’re beautiful!”

Yuuri still isn’t convinced. Victor senses this and stands up to wrap Yuuri up into a hug, tracing over his back with long, slender fingers.

“We don’t have to reply to them straight away anyway,” Victor murmurs against Yuuri’s hair. “You could think it over tonight?”

Yuuri just nods, though he doesn’t think there’s much chance of him changing his mind.

X

“Hi, Yuuri!” Mari says later that night, waving into the webcam.

“Hey,” Yuuri says with a smile. It’s been a long time since he Skyped with his family, and the sight of them is always reassuring. “How is everyone?”

“We’re fine, same as always. Actually, I think Minako is in the other room, let me go get her…” Mari disappears from the screen for a minute, and Yuuri can distantly hear her shouting. When she returns, she’s joined by Yuuri’s ex ballet teacher.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Minako says, voice loud and exuberant. It’s rather late in Hasetsu so Yuuri is willing to bet that Minako has already consumed a few glasses of sake. “How’s Russia?”

“It’s good,” Yuuri says. “The snow finally melted and I don’t feel like I’m a living icicle anymore. I miss the cherry blossoms.”

“And the cherry blossoms miss you, too,” Minako says, producing a drink from somewhere behind the computer and taking a sip.

“So what’s the matter, Yuuri?” Mari asks. “You said in your text you had something you wanted to talk about.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nods. He is still very much undecided over what to do about the photoshoot. Victor firmly believes it is a great idea, but Yuuri thinks he needs some different opinions as well given that as his fiancé, Victor is a little biased. “You remember that interview and photoshoot that Victor did last month?”

Both Mari and Minako smirk, waggling their eyebrows at him. “Oh yes, we do.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Please stop. Basically, the same magazine has asked me to do one as well, and I’m not sure if I should.”

“You should totally do it, Yuuri!” Minako says. “An interview with one of the most popular and respected sports magazines in the world? What a great opportunity!”

“I… I _know.”_ Yuuri is already sold on that aspect; it’s certainly an honour to be considered for an interview there. “It-it’s just the photoshoot that I’m nervous about.”

Mari and Minako both look equally confused, just like Victor had. Yuuri huffs with frustration.

“People don’t want to see someone like _me_ in their magazines, do they? They want beautiful people like Victor.”

Mari and Minako sigh, looking at Yuuri with such pity that it makes him squirm.

“Yuuri,” Mari says. “You know that people see _you_ as a beautiful person as well, right?”

“What?” Yuuri frowns. “No, they don’t.”

“Yeah, they _do_. You need to spend more time on the internet, boy.”

“I… I do, and it’s full of people saying how amazing Victor is, not me.”

“That’s because you’re looking on Victor’s social media, idiot. Do you ever look at what people say about _you?”_

Yuuri blushes. “N-no. I’m always too nervous to see something mean.”

“Yuuri!” Mari sounds incredulous. “Do you have idea how many fans you have? They love you. Everyone flipped over your Eros routine.”

“Yeah, they even invented a catch phrase after you, ‘Unleash your inner Eros’,” Minako nods.

Yuuri frowns. “I’ve never seen anyone use that phrase.”

“That’s because you’re hiding from your fans, sweetie.” Minako takes another gulp of her drink and points a finger at the screen, swaying ever so slightly. “So get your ass down to that photoshoot and show everybody what unleashing your inner Eros really looks like!”

Mari gently forces Minako’s arm down and looks at Yuuri with an apologetic smile. “You don’t have to be _that_ aggressive about it, Yuuri, but seriously, give it a try. Any picture of you would send your fans into a frenzy. It’s pretty rare for you to put yourself in the public eye, anyway.”

“Huh.” Yuuri finds himself gazing off at the opposite wall, reeling from all of the new information. Does he really have that dedicated of a fan base? It’s true that he tries to hide from social media as much as he can, only having the occasional scroll through Instagram comments. Even then, it’s only ever on Victor’s pictures where he seeks out the response, never on his _own_ photos.

“Do it, Yuuri!” Minako’s slurring voice pulls Yuuri’s attention back to the screen. “Unleash your inner Eros on the world!”

After Mari steals Minako’s glass and convinces her that it’s probably time to call it a night, Yuuri wishes the two of them goodbye. He sighs as he closes the lid of his laptop, picking up his phone and glancing at the time. Victor should be home with dinner soon enough.

Yuuri sets his phone aside and starts to stand up, only to be distracted by a text notification. He collapses back down, raising his eyebrows as he reads the message.

 

 **Phichit:** _You have to do the photoshoot Yuuri!! You’d be perf, I know you would_

 

Yuuri laughs despite himself. Even from thousands of kilometres away, Phichit still manages to know exactly what’s going on in Yuuri’s life.

 

 **To: Phichit:** _What are you, psychic?_

 **Phichit:** _A little living legend told me_

 

Yuuri rolls his eyes. Victor Nikiforov: Skating God, Olympic Gold Medallist, Blabbermouth Extraordinaire.

 

 **To: Phichit:** _Phichit, you know how shy I am. And I’ve never done a photoshoot like this before_

 **Phichit:** _I know, I know, and nobody can make you do it if you’re not comfortable. But it’d be a great career move for you and I think seeing the reaction it’d get would do wonders for your confidence!_

 **Phichit:** _Unleash your inner Eros~_

 **To: Phichit:** _Does everybody know about that phrase except me?_

 **Phichit:** _Is that a yes to the shoot, then?_

 **To: Phichit:** _It’s an I’ll think about it_

 **Phichit:** _Good enough for me_

 **To: Phichit:** _Isn’t it past your bed time?_

 **Phichit:** _Hush, you_

 **Phichit:** _For real Yuuri seriously consider it! Nobody is expecting you to get nekkid like your fiancé loves to do so much. Everything would be on your terms_

 

Yuuri sighs. He’s aware he’s probably built this up too much in his head. It’s not as though he’s going to be forced into some kind of insane lingerie and be made to do anything crazy. They’ll probably just give him a nice suit to wear and arrange him into a few awkward poses. It’s just the actual feedback of the photos that Yuuri is worried about. Whilst it may be true that there is a corner of the internet that are fans of him Yuuri just can’t seem to shake the memories of every time he’s come across a comment that belittles him, or points out that Victor is too good looking for him.

Then again, just because Yuuri has seen a few negative comments like here and there, doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re _all_ bad.

Maybe it’s time he stopped comparing himself to Victor.

 

 **To: Phichit:** _I will. Thank you, Phichit_

 **Phichit:** _WERK IT LIKE YOU WERKED THAT POLE, BABY_

 **To: Phichit:** _Aaaand I’m blocking your number_

X

In the end, Yuuri agrees to the photoshoot, much to everyone’s delight. Victor goes with him and stays as close to Yuuri as possible for the duration of the shoot, smiling, blowing him kisses and calling his name like he is Yuuri’s own personal cheerleader (earning him a number of scowls from the camera crew). Yuuri feels comfortable, a lot more comfortable than he thought he would be. He’d been able to work with the wardrobe department to choose his outfit (a deep blue suit that’d brought out his eyes, according to Victor) and the photographer is kind and patient with him.

It becomes easier to forget about the potential audience who is going to be looking at these pictures in a couple of weeks. Whilst Yuuri isn’t sure if he manages to ‘unleash his inner Eros’, he finds that he actually enjoys letting himself be in the spotlight for once more than he thought he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening, my lovelies! ❤
> 
> I thought it was finally time Yuuri got a bit of an insight into how highly other people regard him!
> 
> Oh, and if you ever find yourself feeling down and in need of a good laugh, just go onto google and search for figure skaters mid-jump. Works like a charm!
> 
> My tumblr is [wing--it](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's interview with Pro Sports Weekly is released, and it's safe to say he's a little surprised by the response it receives.

The night before Yuuri’s interview with _Pro Sports Weekly_ is due to be released, Yuuri eats enough to feed a small horse. After demolishing the whole of his dinner, plus a second helping and Victor’s leftovers he moves on to the fridge and pulls out several different cartons and packages to devour, barely paying attention to what’s actually in any of them. Victor had watched him with mild amusement at first, saying he likes that his Yuuri has such a good appetite, but when Yuuri showed no signs of stopping Victor grew concerned and ended up confiscating Yuuri’s snacks.

That hadn’t stopped Yuuri from sneaking back to the snack cupboard (a little sparsely stocked, alas, considering it belongs to two high level athletes) and polishing off the last tube of Pringles.

It leaves Yuuri feeling bloated and incredibly uncomfortable. But in a strange way he is thankful for the discomfort, because at least it gives him something else to focus on other than his wild, anxious thoughts that have been plaguing him for most of the day.

Later on that night when the two of them are lying in bed with Victor gently rubbing Yuuri’s sore belly, Yuuri quietly admits that he’s nervous about the response his interview is going to get.

“Why, though?” Victor asks, brow furrowed with such endearing, genuine confusion.

“Do you have to make me say it?” Yuuri mumbles, unable to meet Victor’s gaze.

Victor sighs. “Oh, Yuuri, you have no idea how much it pains me that you don’t see yourself the way everyone else does.”

Yuuri remains unconvinced, and he can’t help making a cynical comment. “Clearly you haven’t checked the comments on your Instagram lately.”

Victor pouts, shuffling closer to Yuuri and kissing his shoulder as his hand continues to rub slow circles onto Yuuri’s skin. “You know that every person with a social media account has received some kind of negative comment in their life, right? _I’ve_ had many haters in my time. The Internet is cruel that way.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone be mean about you online.”

“That’s because you’re looking in all the wrong places, my love.”

Huh. That’s what Mari and Minako had said. Granted, there are times when Yuuri may _slightly_ fixate on certain comments and end up ignoring everything else as a result, but that doesn’t change the fact that there _are_ people out there who think that he’s punching way above his weight with Victor, and it hurts.

“Yuuri.” Victor’s voice is firm. “For every negative comment that you see about yourself, how many other comments are there singing your praises?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri responds honestly. “I… I suppose they’re not the ones I pay attention to.”

“You really should, _dorogoy_. Because there are a lot of them.” Victor kisses the side of Yuuri’s neck. “You should know that there are _many_ people out there who have asked me how I managed to land someone as beautiful as you.”

Yuuri almost snorts in amusement. Whilst he doesn’t believe Victor’s words for a second, it’s very sweet of Victor to try and make him feel better this way.

With his stomach still aching and his mind still very much swirling with agitated thoughts in anticipation for tomorrow, Yuuri drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

X

Since the next day is a training day, Yuuri doesn’t get the chance to check his phone until his mid-morning break, a couple of hours after his interview had been released. Yuuri had been grateful for the temporary distraction, throwing himself into his practice for a short while to take his mind off what comments the Internet could be spouting about him at any moment. He has been busy perfecting his step sequence anyway, so as always when he is feeling anxious, he uses skating to calm him down.

Yuuri is so wrapped up in what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realise that Victor sneaks out of the rink for twenty minutes, only noticing his fiancé when he returns with what looks like a very large stack of paper.

“Oh, Yuuuri!” Victor calls, his heart-shaped smile visible from all the way across the rink.

That doesn’t sound good. Yuuri gulps, and begrudgingly skates closer.

When he is finally close enough to squint at the paper in Victor’s hands, his stomach drops, realising that the papers are actually a pile of magazines. Magazines with a very familiar title.

“Is that…?” Yuuri asks weakly, pointing a finger at the magazines.

“Your interview, yes!” Victor beams, hair ruffled as though he literally ran here from the newsstand. “I bought thirty-three copies!”

Yuuri stays firmly planted on the ice, too far away to make out any details on the glossy paper. His legs seem to have turned into led, and he doesn’t want to move for fear of falling over.

“Well, don’t you want to see it?” Victor says after quickly growing impatient with Yuuri’s silence. “It’s stunning, Yuuri, come see how beautiful you are!”

Yuuri can think of nothing he wants to do less. But Victor is as stubborn as a mule and with this in mind Yuuri decides it’s far easier to just go along with what he wants and save everyone from Victor’s whining.

Yuuri skates to the barrier, taking a deep breath and bracing himself as he does so. Victor is still grinning from ear to ear and when Yuuri reaches him, he hands over one of the copies.

With his heart in his mouth, Yuuri looks down at the magazine, and he feels his jaw drop.

They put him on the _cover?!_

The picture itself isn’t actually nearly as bad as Yuuri had feared. After the shoot he had pointedly avoided looking at any of the samples in case they’d make him change his mind about the interview, so he’d just left the responsibility of choosing which picture completely up to the magazine. It’s a simple shot, just him standing with his legs parted and his suit jacket draped over one shoulder which he holds by the collar with one finger. His head is tilted and he’s staring directly into the camera wearing the smallest hint of a smile.

Yuuri finds his tense shoulders loosening as he looks down at the photo, head swimming with a small amount of relief.

He glances up at Victor, only to find the space where he’d been standing now empty. His idiot fiancé is now dashing about the rink and tossing the magazines with wild abandon at anyone within his radius, singing about how _beautiful_ his Yuuri is and how _lucky_ Victor is to even be able to breathe the same air as him. Yuuri leaves him to it.

Still clutching the magazine, Yuuri steps off the ice and stumbles to put his skate guards on, collapsing onto the bench and hesitantly reaching for his phone.

As predicted, he is met with an onslaught of text notifications.

 

 **Phichit:** _I HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD_

 **Yuuko:** _Just saw your interview, the triplets are going crazy and I am too! So proud of you, Yuuri!_

 **Takeshi:** _Whoa whoa whoa, when did you get all grown up??_

 **Chris:** _Hello, Mr Katsuki ;)_

 **Minako-sensei:** _That’s my boy!_

 **Mari:** _Just so you know, Mom and Dad are planning on framing this_

 

Yuuri chuckles to himself, and then unlocks his phone to face his biggest fear.

The dreaded social media.

He begins with Instagram, since the people who comment on there are usually the harshest and it’s probably best to get the worst ones out of the way first.

The amount of notifications he already has is overwhelming, and Yuuri’s anxiety kicks into gear at the sight of how many photos he’s been tagged in. He clicks on a few of them at random to find that they’re mostly screenshots of his interview, pictures of himself that Yuuri hasn’t even seen yet because he hadn’t looked as far as the front cover of the magazine. And like his cover photo, he is pleasantly surprised with how he looks in them.

But it’s not the actual photos that he is really interested in. He scrolls down to the caption, and opens the comments.

 

[image]

 **skatingprinces** @KatsukiYuuri LOOKING BOMB AF AND RUINING MY LIFE ONCE AGAIN

_view all 365 comments_

**katsukiqueen** a real life disney prince

 **vityakisses** dayum Yuuri I didn’t realise you had it in you!! Very handsome

 **instahoe** your fav WISHES they were as hot as yuuri katsuki

 **victuurishipper5042** omg I love him so much

 **skatingbabesXx** him and victor make a GORGEOUS couple

 **iceprincess** Pretty!!

 **yuuri.baby** I’d let him skate over me ngl

 **futureworldchampion** Guys think about it, if Victor Nikiforov can pull Katsuki Yuuri then there may just be hope for all of us!

 **littleiceskater** @futureworldchampion yeah nikiforov is definitely punching above his weight here!! yuuri katsuki is a stone cold fox and we are not worthy of him

 **victors-thighs** can’t look directly at him… such beauty… it’s blinding me…

 

Well. _This_ … is not what he’d been expecting.

Yuuri is so busy scrolling through comments with an open mouth that he doesn’t even realise when Yurio approaches him, only taking note of his presence when Yurio reaches over and plucks the magazine from Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri blinks up at him, feeling somewhat shell-shocked by everything he’s just absorbed in the past five minutes.

Yurio analyses the magazine cover for a few seconds with a completely straight face before looking down at Yuuri and arching an eyebrow.

“Like I said,” he declares as he hands the magazine back to Yuuri. “Not a total troll.”

X

Yuuri positively floats through the rest of the day. After he’d spent another ten minutes scrolling through his social media, looking for the negative comments (because he’s _convinced_ the first post he saw about himself was a mistake) and finding nothing, it occurs to Yuuri that perhaps there _are_ people out there who think of him the same way they think of Victor. It’s a bizarre realisation to Yuuri, that maybe in his obsession with avoiding social media for fear of haters he has missed out on so much _positivity_ over the years. Huh.

He feels a little foolish for allowing his paranoia to affect him this badly for so long.

Later on that night, after Yurio had gone home and Victor and Yuuri are left alone, Yuuri is still riding high on the success of his interview. He’s been making frequent checks of his social media all day and now, instead of blushing and freaking out about what he sees, the positive comments just make him smile. Everyone has been so kind about his interview; not just the pictures, but the answers he’d given the interviewer as well, and it makes Yuuri’s heart feels full.

Unsurprisingly, Yuuri’s biggest fan of the day turns out to be Victor. After Victor had finished sharing magazines with practically every living soul within the rink, he’d posted Yuuri’s pictures all over his own social media and spent much of the day screaming with overexcited fans over how _beautiful_ Yuuri is. He has also been unable to keep his hands off Yuuri, hugging and kissing him whenever he got the chance (and nearly getting smacked by Yurio several times in the process).

Yuuri can’t help but enjoy his fiancé’s attention very much. It makes him feel… dare he say… sexy.

When they head to bed, it’s Yuuri who initiates the first kiss. Victor lets out a muffled sound of surprise before returning Yuuri’s kiss with ardency, hands roaming over Yuuri’s body and pulling him closer. Yuuri goes willingly, moving to straddle Victor where he sits with his back against the headboard. Leaning over Victor like this sends a rush of adrenaline through Yuuri’s veins; this position puts him in control, allows him to lead the kiss and take from Victor whatever he wants. In this moment, he is the one with the power. It’s a feeling he has only ever experienced while performing his Eros routine for Victor.

Yuuri is so wrapped up in their increasingly fervent kisses that he barely notices the fact that the lights in the bedroom are still on. After Phichit had encouraged him all those weeks ago to be more open during sex Yuuri has been taking small baby steps, gradually growing in confidence and trying to be just a little more adventurous.

Staying on top of Victor like this, however, is brand new and would be a big leap for Yuuri. As Victor’s mouth drops to press hot, wet kisses to Yuuri’s neck he gasps, heart pounding like a jackhammer against his ribcage as he internally grapples with himself.

When Victor gently grasps Yuuri’s hips, trying to push him to the side so they can flip positions, Yuuri makes up his mind. He braces his hands on Victor’s shoulders and squeezes, stopping Victor from moving and pulling away just enough to meet Victor’s confused gaze.

“Maybe we could…” Yuuri says breathlessly, fingertips tracing over Victor’s bare collarbone. “Try it this way tonight?”

Victor’s eyes widen, pupils dilating with unabashed desire. Instead of giving a verbal answer he cups the back of Yuuri’s neck and pulls him into a burning kiss, hot enough to rival the sun. That’s enough of a response for Yuuri, and he lets his body relax as they both lose themselves in the tangled embrace.

X

Later, as the two of them cuddle together whilst waiting for their senses to come back to them, Yuuri smiles to himself. He is feeling sated and particularly proud of himself after their escapades tonight, the confidence he gained from his interview feedback working its way into their sex life and giving Yuuri a good nudge in a better, more adventurous direction.

It seems as though Victor enjoyed it as well, considering his eyelids are already drooping and he’s wearing what can only be described as a dopey half-smile.

“Hey, Victor?” Yuuri asks, tilting his head up to look at his sleepy fiancé as he trails a finger over his chest. “I’ve been wondering… what was your first time like?”

Victor glances down at him, bemused. “My first time… having sex? Why do you want to know?”

Yuuri shrugs. “I’m just curious. You obviously know about _my_ first time, I mean, you were very heavily involved.”

Victor chuckles. “I was, and it was wonderful. But really, there are much more interesting things for you to be curious about.”

“Please tell me? I just want to know more about you, Vitya.”

Victor softens under the nickname, fingers resuming stroking up and down Yuuri’s arm. “To be honest, it wasn’t that exciting, love.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need to hear about it in great detail or anything; I’d just like to have an idea. It makes me feel closer to you, learning these little things about you.”

Victor kisses the top of Yuuri’s head, murmuring, “Okay. What would you like to know?”

“Well…” Yuuri’s eyes follow the movement of his own finger across Victor’s strong pectorals. “How old were you?”

“It was my sixteenth birthday.”

Yuuri’s heart skips a quick beat. That’s not too much of a surprise to him since Yurio mentioned that Victor had been sexually active when he was Yurio’s age but still, it seems so young to Yuuri. He says this to Victor. “That’s pretty young. Was it with a friend or something?”

“Not exactly…” Victor trails off, taking a quiet moment of thought before shuffling about, finding a more comfortable position. “My birthday was during the Russian Nationals so everyone threw a party for me in the hotel, but a lot of people showed up who weren’t actually invited. It was with a boy who was staying in the hotel at the time.”

Yuuri nods. “Okay. And how old was the boy you were with, your age too?”

“Uh…” Victor gives an uneasy laugh. “He was twenty-seven.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline, unable to prevent his disbelief from tumbling out his mouth. “What?!”

Victor’s mouth is pressed into a thin smile, and he has now stopped looking at Yuuri altogether. It makes the hairs on the back of Yuuri’s neck stand up.

“What can I say?” Victor finally says, voice light and overly casual. “He seduced me.”

Yuuri is frowning now. When Yurio had told him weeks ago about Victor’s sexual history Yuuri had just assumed Victor was out fooling around with people his own age. But this… it’s leaving a bad taste in Yuuri’s mouth. Especially since the conversation is making Victor regress into the polite, vapidly cheery demeanour he usually saves for media questions.

“He kind of sounds like a pervert, Victor. What was his name?”

Victor is quiet for a long moment, chest rising and falling slowly beneath Yuuri’s hand. “I don’t remember. Hey, do you want tea? I’m going to make tea!”

Before Yuuri has the chance to respond, Victor is leaping out of bed and exiting the room, still butt naked. Yuuri sits up and leans against the headboard, frowning as his mind tries to catch up with the brief but bizarre conversation they just had.

What should have been an intimate but sweet discussion between the two of them about Victor’s first experience with sex had turned into something a little more unsettling. All Yuuri has managed to gather is that some twenty-seven year old man targeted Victor as soon as he turned sixteen, ‘seduced’ him (whatever Victor had meant by that), and then Victor’s virginity had disappeared.

Yuuri personally doesn’t care all that much about age difference when it comes to relationships; after all, there are four years between Victor and him. But sixteen and twenty-seven? That’s like… Victor at the age he is now sleeping with _Yurio._ Yuuri shudders, feeling rather nauseated at the thought.

Yuuri still has many more questions he wants to ask but from the way Victor had dashed off, it’s clear that Yuuri isn’t going to get anything else from him tonight. Yuuri bookmarks the conversation in his mind to bring up at a later date and fiddles with the blankets, eyebrows still etched together as he thinks.

When Victor returns with two cups of tea and a too-bright smile, Yuuri swallows down the concerns that rise up his throat with a great deal of difficulty, and Victor makes no attempt to bring the conversation back up again.

Hm. Weird.

X

The next evening is a quiet, drowsy one. After a particularly intense day of practice, Yuuri hadn’t had the energy to do anything apart from collapse onto the couch and listlessly watch TV as he waited for Victor (alone, since Yurio had gone straight home after training).

Victor had arrived home barely ten minutes ago, simply taking off his jacket and shoes and then falling onto the couch too, head in Yuuri’s lap. He’d fallen asleep in a matter of minutes. Yuuri just turns the volume down on the TV and begins to gently run his fingers through Victor’s silky, slightly wind-swept hair, staring down at his fiancé’s pretty face with a small frown of his own.

Victor is so _tired_ these days. He always goes out of his way to hide it but Yuuri knows him well enough to see the signs; subtle differences like the way his eyes don’t sparkle as brightly, and the fact that he isn’t as playful as he used to be and how it takes him a little longer to get out of bed in the mornings. Yuuri hasn’t brought it up directly with Victor yet since he knows that’s a sure-fire way to make Victor shut down, but it’s definitely something that Yuuri is keeping a close eye on.

After an easy dinner of store-bought soup and bread, the two of them retire to bed, not even entertaining the idea of sex and instead just curling up around each other and quickly drifting off to sleep.

When Yuuri next awakens, he is still surprisingly sluggish. Peeling his eyelids open, he blinks blearily around the room to find it still cast in darkness, telling him it’s not nearly time to get up yet. He grumbles to himself, wondering what could have woken him up in the middle of the night, and feels around for his phone to check the time. 3:35 AM. _Definitely_ not a pleasant time to be awake.

Yuuri falls back onto his pillow, blindly reaching behind him to tug Victor’s arm over his waist so they can spoon.

Only to find the space behind him empty.

Yuuri frowns, shifting to look over his shoulder at Victor’s side of the bed. Victor is nowhere in sight, and judging by how chilly his spot on the mattress is, he’s been gone for a while. Perhaps he’s in the bathroom, or he’s gone to the kitchen for a drink.

But the small gap between the ensuite bathroom door and the floor is pitch black, with no sign of life or light coming from the other room. Suddenly feeling a little more awake, Yuuri pushes himself up and picks up his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on as he rises from the bed.

“Victor?” he calls groggily as he pads to the kitchen. No response. Yuuri checks the kitchen, living room, bathroom and even the spare room only to come up short each time, heartbeat increasing at the sight of each vacant room. It’s only after his search that he notices Makkachin lying by the front door, which he usually only does when Victor is out and he’s waiting for his owner to come home.

Just the sight of the snoozing dog on the welcome mat makes Yuuri’s stomach drop.

“Makka?” Yuuri says quietly, not wanting to disturb the dog too quickly and make him overexcited. Makkachin lifts his head, tail thumping gently against the floor. “Where’s Victor?”

Makkachin perks up at the sound of Victor’s name, standing up and giving a short woof as he scratches at the front door.

Yuuri walks closer and points at the door. “Victor?”

Makkachin gives another bark as though he’s answering yes to Yuuri’s question.

Yuuri’s jaw tightens.

_He wouldn’t…_

Yuuri stomps back to the bedroom to retrieve his phone. Victor has disappeared, gone out in the middle of the night without telling Yuuri or leaving him any kind of note or information. And Yuuri thinks he has a very good idea of just where Victor might be.

Yuuri grabs his phone and dials Victor’s number, breathing sharply through his nose as he waits impatiently for Victor to pick up.

Victor answers after three rings, quiet and hesitant. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri doesn’t bother with any sort of greeting or pleasantries, instead snapping, “Where are you?”

“I… I…” Victor sounds as small as a child being disciplined. “I just w-went out to –”

“You’re at the rink, aren’t you?”

He hears Victor swallow. “Yuuri, I-I’m sorry, I just wanted to –”

“Come home _now.”_

Yuuri hangs up before giving Victor the chance to reply. He tosses his phone back onto the bed, pacing the room a couple of times before sitting down heavily on the bed with a frustrated groan. Victor is at the rink. It’s nearly four in the goddamn morning and Victor is at the rink. Is _this_ the reason why he can barely hold his head up after nine pm anymore? Why he can’t do anything but eat dinner and fall straight to sleep every evening instead of spending time with Yuuri? Why his skin is paler and the bags under his eyes are growing more pronounced by the day?

Yuuri has never felt so furious with him before. Victor is not only his fiancé but his _coach_ , he’s supposed to set an example for Yuuri (as well as the other skaters) and be a role model. How is Yuuri supposed to trust him in his coaching abilities if Victor can’t even look after himself properly? He’d already known Victor could be dense sometimes but _this_ , this is just ridiculous.

Does Victor really expect to become a gold medallist again by burning out before the competitions even begin?

Yuuri sits with his arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed together and exhaling heavily through his nose. He isn’t even sure what he’s planning on saying to Victor; all he knows is that with adrenaline zipping through his veins and a pyre burning away in his belly, it isn’t going to be pretty.

When he hears the front door quietly open and click shut, his stomach turns over. The cauldron of anger is still very much bubbling away inside of him and despite Yuuri not wanting to get mad at Victor, Victor has very much crossed the line tonight.

Victor shuffles into the bedroom with his eyes downcast, glancing up at Yuuri once before quickly turning away. It makes Yuuri even angrier.

An awful, tense silence stretches between them for several agonising seconds.

Yuuri is the first to break it. His voice comes out tight and strained. “How long have you been sneaking out of our bed to go and train in the middle of the night?”

“Just… just a few times,” Victor mumbles to the floor.

“Just a few times?” Yuuri repeats, finding it difficult to believe a word he says. “Is this why your short program is almost finished and mine isn’t even close?”

Victor simply nods.

Yuuri shakes his head to himself. “Victor, what did you expect would happen when I found out?”

“You… you’re a heavy sleeper… I… I didn’t… think you would.”

Yuuri huffs in amusement, though there is no humour behind the sound. “Wow, okay. So you were going to carry on lying to me and practising for God knows how many extra hours a night until… what? Until your routines are perfect and you end up collapsing from exhaustion? Or in hospital with a serious injury?”

Victor visibly gulps. “I… I wouldn’t let it get that far, I… I’m not _stupid,_ Yuuri –”

“Victor, the Grand Prix doesn’t even start for another four months and you’re already working yourself to the bone! Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed how tired you already are?!”

Victor’s eyes suddenly shoot up and meet Yuuri’s for the first time since entering the room. “Oh, so you agree with everyone else, then? That I’m getting too old for this?”

Yuuri reels, face twisting into a frown. _“What?_ What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I used to train for this many hours before I met you and my ‘tiredness’ was never a problem then!”

Yuuri scoffs. “Oh really, you expect me to believe that you were practising in the middle of the night _on top of_ the ridiculous hours you work every day as well?”

“Well… okay, fine, I didn’t practice in the middle of the night, but when you weren’t around I could spend longer at the rink during the day.”

“Are you saying that having me here is _holding you back?”_

“No! No, Yuuri, I’m not saying that, it’s just…” Victor groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand. You wouldn’t understand.”

A large lump rises in Yuuri’s throat, and he chokes out, “Don’t you think that’s up to _me_ to decide? The only reason I don’t understand what’s going on in your damn head right now is because you _won’t talk to me!_ Victor, don’t you realise how much that hurts?”

“I… it… Yuuri, why are you making this out to be such a big deal? My short program is almost done and I just wanted to put in a few more hours to get it where I want it to be. That’s all!”

“But you don’t _need_ to put in those extra hours, Victor, there’s still plenty of time left before the Grand Prix starts –”

“No, there _isn’t_. We still need to finish your short program and we’ve barely touched on your free skate, and I’ve only choreographed thirty seconds worth of my free skate so far! _You_ might have plenty of time but I definitely don’t!”

Yuuri’s mouth snaps closed, and he swallows heavily around the lump still sitting on his windpipe. His tightly crossed arms fall to his lap, and his voice catches when he says, “I _knew_ it would be too much to ask of you… to coach me alongside planning your comeback.”

“No… of course it’s not, Yuuri. This isn’t about coaching you. Please don’t think that I don’t want to coach you.”

“Then what’s it about?” Yuuri asks unhappily. “For once, just _talk_ to me, Victor.”

Victor’s eyes flicker between Yuuri’s for a moment, an internal battle raging within them. Yuuri’s heart skips a beat, thinking that _finally_ Victor is going to put aside his pride and open up to him, but then Victor sighs, and Yuuri’s hope disappears once more.

“Like I said,” Victor mumbles, rubbing a hand up and down his other arm. “It's not a big deal; there’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out to practice tonight, okay?”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, unable to mask his disbelief. “Really? That’s all you’re apologising for?”

Victor has the nerve to look confused.

Yuuri lets out a heavy sigh of his own and pushes himself to his feet. “Fine. I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Victor’s eyes widen, and as Yuuri passes him, he grabs hold of his arm to stop him walking away. “Wait, what? Why are you going, I said I was sorry!”

Yuuri fixes him a stare cold enough to make Victor abruptly drop his arm. “Somehow it wasn’t enough.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Yuuri ignores him, instead turning and exiting the bedroom. Victor’s panicked voice behind him stops him in his tracks again.

“Yuuri! We have one fight and now you’re _leaving me?!”_

Yuuri spins around to face him, giving Victor a long, incredulous look. Victor shifts from one foot to the other, wide eyes blinking wildly.

“I’m not _leaving_ you, Victor; it’s nearly four thirty in the morning and we’re both tired and frustrated. We just need a little space.”

Victor looks close to tears, beginning to fidget with his fingernails as he stares at Yuuri.

It sends another small wave of irritation through Yuuri’s body. “Seriously? You thought I was _leaving_ you because we had our first fight? What are you, a child?”

He instantly regrets what he said as soon as it leaves his mouth. The words scatter between them, heavy and toxic, and Victor absorbs them all.

He looks crushed. His eyes fall to the floor.

Yuuri sighs and rubs both hands over his face, exhaustion fighting against him and leaving him feeling heavy and numb. He wants to apologise but he’s not sure the words would be all that effective right now, not with Victor looking like a puppy whose just been kicked and Yuuri still thrumming with exasperation.

They need to talk again in the morning, after they’ve both calmed down and gotten some sleep.

Yuuri lets his hands fall back down to his side and he starts to walk away again, muttering over his shoulder, “Goodnight, Victor.”

Victor doesn’t reply.

Yuuri settles himself on the couch with a heavy heart, pulling the blanket that was draped across the cushions over his body and fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. Crushing guilt envelopes him for being the one response for making Victor look like that, so lost and rejected and alone. Yuuri can only hope that tonight serves as a wake-up call for Victor, that it’s actually _worse_ for him to keep all of his worries and emotions to himself, and that he certainly can’t keep practising at the intensity he is now because it will only hurt him in the long-run.

Yuuri just hopes that Victor sees it that way, too.

The last flicker of fire in the pit of his stomach finally burns out, and it leaves Yuuri as cold and lonely as the couch he lies on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the ANGST TRAIN
> 
> So as well as writing Brighter, I've also had ideas for several YOI one-shots which I'll hopefully be publishing over the coming weeks. If you have any extra requests or writing prompts, please feel free to message me on tumblr and I'll do my best to fill it for you! (Though unfortunately there will be some prompts I won't be able to fill, e.g. major character death and such). 
> 
> If you do have any requests or just wanna say hi to me, my tumblr url is [wing--it](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)! I always try to follow back :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, loves!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst Yuuri has forgiven Victor after their first fight, the tension between them doesn't abate so quickly.

A few weeks have passed since Victor and Yuuri’s first fight. After a brief period of awkward silence between the two of them and another nervous apology from Victor, Yuuri had finally forgiven him on the condition that Victor doesn’t sneak out at night to practice again. Victor seems to be keeping his word; Yuuri hasn’t woken up to an empty bed since then but there hasn’t exactly been an improvement in Victor’s fatigue like Yuuri hoped there would be. Victor still stays late at the rink most evenings, and he still refuses to take a break longer than twenty minutes for fear of wasting valuable practice time.

Victor is different around him, now. Despite Yuuri telling his fiancé that he has forgiven him for what happened, Victor continues to walk on eggshells around him. He’s so eager to please these days as well, even more so than usual, fawning over Yuuri and following him around like a lost puppy. But in a sharp contrast, Victor is surprisingly hesitant with his touches; only latching onto Yuuri after Yuuri gives him some kind of permission or makes the first move himself.

Yuuri can’t help but find it endlessly frustrating. For whatever reason, Victor can’t seem to move on from their fight and Yuuri doesn’t know how much longer he can put up with Victor acting so sheepish. He tries to reassure Victor that they’re okay as best as he can, through murmured words of affection and soft touches, but it doesn’t do much to improve Victor’s behaviour.

It’s not as though there’s been a _huge_ change in their relationship; they still talk easily enough, they still spend most of their time together, and they still kiss and have sex. But the playfulness that’d always been between them seems to have faded somewhat, replaced with a thin kind of tension that wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else apart from them.

It’s not a chore to be with Victor, not at all. But Yuuri finds himself getting fed up with him much more quickly these days, and it’s starting to scare him.

One Saturday night, Victor and Yuuri invite the other skaters over for takeout pizza and a movie, all of them agreeing that they deserve a treat after the intense hours of practice they’ve all been putting in lately. The five of them settle themselves in the living room, placing the pizza boxes on the coffee table for everyone to share and arguing about which movie to watch. It’s nice, being able to have a night that isn’t consumed by skating for once.

After the pizzas have been demolished, mainly by Mila and Yurio, the movie gradually gets ignored as the group begins to chatter amongst themselves about whatever comes to mind. Mila and Yurio have been winding Georgi up for the past ten minutes and whilst Yuuri doesn’t join in with the teasing, he can’t help but laugh along.

Victor is uncharacteristically quiet throughout most of the conversation. He and Yuuri are both cuddled together on the armchair, Yuuri on his lap, and Victor spends a large amount of time with his head dropped against Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri thinks he’s having little micro-naps.

Victor being so sleepy is certainly nothing new at this point. Yuuri doesn’t try to disturb him, instead just absently strokes Victor’s hair as he tries to keep his laughs as soft as possible so Victor can relax.

The current topic of ridicule is Georgi’s theme from last season, the one which he based entirely around his ex-girlfriend and had featured a concerning amount of tears, pining and blue eye shadow.

Georgi remains unfazed by Mila and Yurio’s teasing, saying airily, “You only laugh because you have not been fortunate enough to experience true love yet. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

“This is why I could never date another figure skater,” Mila says, shaking her head. “ _Waaay_ too dramatic.”

Georgi raises an eyebrow. “Really? I was under the impression that you and Sara were…?”

Mila immediately goes pink. “Hey, we’re just _friends!”_

Yurio snorts in amusement, and Mila whips her head around to narrow her eyes at him. “Oh, you think that’s funny, short stuff? How’s Otabek, hm?”

That instantly wakes Victor up. He shoots up beside Yuuri, frowning deeply. “What’s this I hear about a boy? Yurio, is there a boy?”

Yurio looks mortified. “What? _No.”_

Victor ignores that completely, pointing at Yurio and saying sternly, “Because he should know that he’ll have to go through me before he can even think about making a move on you, okay?”

Yurio rolls his eyes. “First of all, just, _stop_ , you’re creeping me out. Second of all, I’m not interested in _anyone_ so leave it.”

Mila waggles her eyebrows, poking Yurio in the stomach and making him squirm. “Yeah, _sure_. You’re sixteen, you really expect us to believe you don’t want to date?”

Yurio’s expression darkens. “I really _don’t_.”

Yuuri tenses, noticing straightaway the effect this conversation is having on Yurio and how quickly it could worsen if everyone continues prodding him. So Yuuri butts in fast, talking over Mila and changing the subject, “Actually, I wasn’t interested in dating until last year when I met Victor. And Mila’s right, figure skaters really _are_ dramatic.”

Victor pouts, burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck and whining, “Yuuuri! You’re so _mean_ to me!”

Yuuri giggles, glancing over at Yurio to see him cast a small, grateful smile in his direction.

Luckily enough, nobody else in the room picks up on the tiny exchange.

“But Yuuri,” Georgi says. “Of all the skaters, you did choose the _most_ dramatic one. Not all of them are as, let’s say, theatrical.”

“Theatrical?” Victor repeats, kicking a leg out like he’s practising the Can-can. “I love that!”

Yuuri bats Victor’s leg down. “You really think Victor is the most dramatic?”

“Oh, sure,” Mila nods. “Though he could be rivalled by Chris. I’m sure the music he skated to last year was taken from a porno.”

Yurio’s face screws up at the memory. “I still have nightmares about that routine.”

As Mila and Georgi start to make jokes about Yurio’s ‘precious innocence’, Victor tilts his head up and murmurs to Yuuri, “Do you really think I’m the most dramatic skater?”

“Definitely,” Yuuri nods, before smiling and kissing Victor’s forehead. “But to be honest, I haven’t spent much time around any skaters apart from you guys and Phichit so really, I wouldn’t know.”

“Really?” Victor arches an eyebrow. “No other skaters for me to be jealous of?”

Yuuri scoffs in amusement. “Not at all.”

Victor looks pleased, and he settles himself back down against Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri picks at a loose piece of thread on Victor’s shirt, lip caught between his teeth as he considers Victor’s question. Yuuri doesn’t think of himself as a jealous person but he can’t help wondering if there are any other skaters who _he_ should be jealous of. With Victor being the living legend that he is, he is very popular amongst the other skaters and has lots of friends within the community. Have any of them ever been… more than friends?

Yuuri keeps his voice quiet as to not be heard by the other three in the room, asking Victor, “Are there any skaters for _me_ to be jealous of?”

Victor lifts his head up, eyes wide and blinking. “Yuuri! I’m shocked to hear you ask such a thing.”

Yuuri smirks. “Well, was there ever anyone else?”

Victor looks at Yuuri for a long moment, expression softening as he gazes up at him. “Just you.”

Butterflies explode in Yuuri’s stomach and he holds Victor closer, hiding his smile against his fiancé’s hair. He knows that Victor has always had an ‘eligible bachelor’ reputation and a part of Yuuri had always feared that his own lack of experience wouldn’t be enough for Victor. But finding out that Victor hasn’t actually gotten _intimate_ with anyone else within the skating world comes as quite a relief, and it eases some of Yuuri’s insecurity over his own, _ahem_ , bedroom performance. It’s a very comforting fact to know.

X

Victor’s brow is furrowed and his jaw is tense as he stares down at the notepad resting on the rink barrier, pen poised in his hand as he analyses the plan for Yuuri’s free skate. Yuuri stands on the other side of the barrier, already on the ice and waiting patiently for Victor to finish making more changes to the slowly developing routine the two of them are working on.

Victor releases a short breath through his nose and then scribbles out a jump element for the fifth time, essentially rendering the page one large scrawl that’s barely readable at this point. This routine has been constantly changing over the past couple of weeks, so much so that Yuuri can barely keep up with all of the elements that Victor keeps switching.

Yuuri drags his eyes away the plan, instead looking up and settling on Victor’s overwrought features instead. Victor rarely gets stuck when it comes to choreography; routines flow out of him and it doesn’t tend to take him very long to put together a decent plan. But Victor has already said a few times that he wants Yuuri’s free skate to be spectacular, and his dedication to the routine shows through his endless searching for improvements.

Yuuri’s body moves on instinct, hand reaching up to gently stroke through Victor’s bangs. The silver locks fall like a curtain when Yuuri lets go, hiding half of Victor’s face once more as he barely reacts to Yuuri’s touch. Yuuri doesn’t let that deter him, hand trailing down Victor’s neck and gently squeezing the tight shoulder muscle until Victor lets out a quiet sigh.

“Sorry I’m taking so long, love,” Victor mumbles. “I just want to get this right.”

“You will,” Yuuri replies softly, hand continuing its descent and stroking down Victor’s arm. “You always do.”

Victor goes quiet again, scribbling out yet another element and drawing an arrow to swap two jumps. Victor has been especially tense today. He can’t seem to settle on any decision, he’s suspiciously quiet and he’s not being as affectionately clingy with Yuuri as he normally is. It’s unsettling to witness. Yuuri watches him with concern for a couple more minutes until they’re disturbed by the sound of rapidly approaching skates, looking up in time to see Yurio come to a harsh stop beside them.

“Hey, asshole,” Yurio says to Victor by way of greeting, his own personal way of demanding attention.

Victor exhales tightly, glancing up at Yurio with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Yurio crosses his arms, shooting a quick glance at Yuuri before huffing and saying, “So, for some stupid reason, I still can’t get this damn quad flip right. But I want it in my free skate. So as much as it physically _pains_ me to have to ask an airheaded old man like you for help, you are literally the only person in the world who can land that jump every time so I don’t have much of a choice.”

Victor’s lips tilt up at the corners in a humourless, tight smile. He doesn’t even give Yurio a verbal reply, instead just looking back down at his notes.

Yurio clicks his tongue. “So are you going to help me with it or not?”

“Well, as lovely an offer as it is, Yurio, I don’t have time.”

Yurio raises an eyebrow, looking very much unconvinced. “Really? You don’t have _ten minutes_ to –”

 _“No_ , Yuri, I _don’t_.” Victor hits his notepad against the barrier, the unexpected thud making both Yuuri and Yurio jump. “This may be hard for you to believe but I can’t always drop everything and make time for you. I’ve got my own student’s routines to worry about as well as my own. Now, I’m sorry if that doesn’t _suit_ you, but unfortunately not everything revolves around you. Go and ask your own coach for help.”

Victor grabs his pen again, eyes falling back to the page before him as he begins to angrily write. Yuuri stares wide-eyed at him, jaw dropped after witnessing such an unexpected outburst and being unable to form any actual words. He glances up at Yurio, fully expecting an inferno of biting remarks and curse words to be unleashed upon Victor.

But Yurio stays quiet. His own lips are parted, looking as shocked as Yuuri feels at Victor’s words. His arms are tightly folded across his chest, fingers twisting the fabric of his sleeve so much that he’ll probably end up stretching it. His eyes shine, and he blinks several times to remove the extra moisture that has collected there.

He’s _hurt._

Yuuri’s heart pangs, and he reaches out on impulse to comfort him but Yurio darts away, skating towards the opposite edge of the rink and hurrying off the ice. After yanking off his skates and changing his shoes, Yurio disappears through the doors to the changing room without once looking back.

Yuuri turns his attention back to Victor, whose eyes are still downcast. Yuuri bristles at the sight, his protective instincts over Yurio kicking into overdrive and igniting a hot, angry fire in his veins. “What the _hell_ was that?”

Victor sighs quietly. “What was what?”

“You know exactly _what!_ Why did you do that to him?”

“Yuuri, you _know_ I don’t have time to –”

“Yes, that may well be true, but you had no right to speak to him that way and hurt his feelings. That was completely uncalled for!”

Victor finally looks up, brows etched together. “Hurt his feelings? It’s _Yurio_ , I doubt he even has such things.”

“Just because he acts tough doesn’t mean he isn’t affected when someone is mean to him, _especially_ someone he looks up to!”

Victor scoffs. “ _I_ was mean? He spends his life criticising other people, he can’t expect to never get anything in return for that.”

“He’s _sixteen_ , Victor. And you know that must’ve taken a lot for him to come here and ask you for help.”

“But you can do a quad flip as well,” Victor protests with a wave of his hand. “There’s no reason why he can’t come to you!”

Yuuri exhales sharply through his nose, briefly closing his eyes to stop himself from completely flying off the handle. More and more lately, he is reminded of just how _clueless_ Victor can be sometimes.

“Victor, I can count on my hands how many times I’ve actually landed a quad flip. It’s _your_ signature move; of course he’d want your help with it.”

Victor finally looks at Yuuri properly. Yuuri’s hard glare seems to have the desired effect because Victor’s shoulders sag, the tension leaving his body through one long exhale. He mutters, “Maybe I was a little harsh with him…”

“ _Yes_ , you were.” Yuuri folds his arms, glancing back at the doors Yurio had disappeared through. “You owe him an apology.”

Victor nods. “I know.”

Yuuri rubs a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh of his own. He feels as drained as if he’d just landed four quads in a row. “I’m gonna go practice my short program while you finish up here, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, okay.” Victor’s voice has gone small again in the way it does when he knows Yuuri is annoyed with him. It’s a tone of voice that Yuuri wishes he wasn’t hearing more and more of.

He turns to skate away but before he can gain any momentum, Victor stops him.

“Wait, Yuuri. I-I’m sorry.”

Yuuri spins around and frowns. “Why are you apologising to me?”

Victor looks confused, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows around nothing. “B-because… you’re mad at me.”

“Yes, but I’m not the one you hurt.” Yuuri can’t believe he’s having to spell this out. “You don’t have to say sorry every single time I’m annoyed about something, Victor, not unless you need to.”

Victor nods silently.

Yuuri skates away, kicking into the ice with more force than necessary and allowing his frustrations to bleed out through his skates. Yuuri is well aware that every relationship has its ups and downs; every couple will have their first fight and spots of tension along the way. But Yuuri never expected to have to hold Victor’s hand and guide him through every difficult time they face. This is Yuuri’s first real relationship too and he’s just as inexperienced as Victor when it comes to things like this, so why should all the responsibility fall on _his_ shoulders?

Victor clearly has his own issues which he is refusing to talk about. Yuuri doesn’t know what these issues are exactly, or why Victor seems hell-bent on suppressing them, but it's agitating his anxiety and filling him with an uncomfortable sense of trepidation.

Yuuri pushes himself off the ice into a triple axel, focusing only on the satisfying crack his blades make against the ice and purposely ignoring Victor's burning gaze. Just because their relationship is less than perfect right now doesn't mean his skating has to suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think the angst was going to stop after just one chapter, did you? ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know in the comments what you think so far!
> 
> And come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assignments come in, and Yuuri finds out a secret from Victor's past.

The thick layer of tension that had formed between Victor and Yuuri after Victor snapped at Yurio the day before unfortunately does _not_ dissipate after a night’s sleep, and instead follows the two of them all the way to practice the next morning. Victor has been radiating guilt ever since yesterday’s incident, and Yuuri isn’t willing to forgive him until he at least tries to make amends with Yurio.

But when they arrive at the rink and begin to warm up beside the barrier, the simmering tension is quickly overshadowed by a certain, very important thing.

 _“Assignments!”_ Mila yells as she bursts through the doors of the rink. “Assignments are in!”

Everyone immediately drops whatever they’re doing and races over to Yakov’s office on the side of the rink, scrambling to get past each other and be the first to force their way through the doorway. Victor and Mila reach the office the quickest, shouting over each other and demanding to know where they are. Yakov ignores it all, sitting behind his desk and frowning pensively at his computer. Yuuri can’t help smiling in sympathy. Yakov must have had many years practice in tuning out his skaters’ mischief.

Only when Victor, Mila and Georgi have calmed down somewhat does Yakov look up, considering all of them individually before sighing and clicking something on the computer.

He starts with Mila, since she is the only one in a different category to everyone else. “Mila, Skate Canada and Trophée de France.”

Mila nods, immediately whipping her phone and beginning to text. Yakov takes another moment to find the Men’s assignments.

“Vitya,” he says. “Skate America and Trophée de France.”

Victor nods, casting a quick smile at Yuuri.

“Georgi, Skate America and Cup of China. Katsuki, Rostelecom Cup and NHK Trophey.”

Yuuri is a little disheartened to hear that he won’t be skating on the same ice as Victor, but it’s not the end of the world. He’s more focused on the fact that he’ll be competing in Japan which is a perfect excuse to have a catch up with his family.

“Yuratchka…” Yakov looks up again, frowning at each the skaters. “Where is Yuri?”

Mila shrugs. “Don’t know, Coach, haven’t seen him yet today.”

Yakov sighs. “Well, he got the Rostelecom Cup and the Cup of China, somebody tell him that.”

“Where’s Chris?” Victor asks, circling the desk and perching on Yakov’s knee to peer at the screen himself, completely ignoring Yakov’s grunt of protest.

“Yeah, I need to find out where Phichit is,” Yuuri chimes in.

“Ask them your damn selves,” Yakov grumbles. “Vitya, give me my computer back.”

“Chris got Rostelecom and Trophée de France! We’re both gonna compete against him, Yuuri,” Victor says, blissfully ignorant of Yakov’s displeasure and instead settling more comfortably onto his new, angry seat. “Hang on, let me find Phichit… Skate Canada and NHK!”

Yuuri beams, thrilled that he’ll be able to see his best friend _and_ his family all in one place.

Then Mila and Georgi both join Victor behind the desk, all three of them chattering excitedly about everyone’s assignments as their poor coach goes red in the face with irritation.

Yuuri smiles at the sight of them, and then glances over his shoulder at the rink with a small frown. He hasn’t seen Yuri today either, and he wonders what could be keeping him on the day assignments are announced.

Yuuri decides that the group of gossiping Russians probably won’t notice if he slips out now, so he sneaks out of the office and begins his search for a certain angry, blonde teenager.

It doesn’t take Yuuri long to spot him. With most other skaters off talking with each other about where everybody has been assigned, the locker room is almost empty, save for one small figure sitting on one of the benches and hunched over his phone. Yuuri slows his footsteps, not wanting to startle Yurio with any sudden movements.

“There you are,” Yuuri says with a hesitant smile, approaching the bench and sitting down beside Yurio. “Are you okay, _kotyonok?_ Do you know where you’ve been assigned?”

Yurio doesn’t even look up from his phone. Yuuri peeks over his shoulder and sees that Yurio has already pulled up the website with everybody’s assignments on. Yurio doesn’t answer the question, instead mumbling, “I’m not in any of the same qualifiers as JJ.”

Yuuri blinks, taken aback by Yurio’s straightforwardness. Whenever they’ve spoken about JJ before it’s always Yuuri who has broached the subject, with Yurio doing everything in his power to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Okay. That’s… is that good?”

Yurio shrugs. “I guess? I’m still going to have to see him at some point though, aren’t I? I’m going to make it to the Final, and I’m pretty sure he will too. It’s not like I can avoid him forever.”

Yuuri sighs. “Yeah, that’s probably true. But it’s not as if you’ll be _alone_ with him, right? I’ll be there, whether I qualify for the final or not, and I won’t let him anywhere near you. I promise.”

Yuuri is taken aback by the smile that forms on Yurio’s face, soft and radiant. He responds with a beam of his own, pleased to be able to reassure Yurio in some small way.

“Yeah, I know,” Yurio says eventually, shoulders sagging as he sighs. “What are you talking about, anyway? Of course you’re gonna qualify for the Final. _Someone’s_ gotta help me take down Victor.”

Yuuri sniggers. “Deal.”

Yurio shifts a little closer, leaning sideways until his arm bumps against Yuuri’s. After a few seconds of hesitant silence, he drops his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri’s heart melts at the action, briefly considering if he’s ever seen anything more adorable, and allows his cheek to rest against the top of Yurio’s head. They sit quietly like that together for a few, long moments, revelling in the peace and quiet away from the other overexcited skaters.

Yuuri hears Yurio swallow before breaking the silence. “I’m not gonna get to see Beka until the final, either. You know, if we both get there.”

Yuuri frowns in confusion, wracking his brain as he considers the name. “Who’s Beka?”

Yurio suddenly straightens up, cheeks flushing a very faint pink colour. “Otabek.”

 _“Oh.”_ Yuuri tries to suppress a smile. That’s _adorable._

“I mean, we can still Skype and stuff, it’s just… not really the same, you know.”

Yuuri nods. “I feel the same about Phichit. I haven’t lived in Detroit for a long time now but I still miss being able to hang out with him every day.”

Yurio nods too as he fiddles with his phone.

Yuuri taps his leg a few times, looking carefully over Yurio’s face as if to work out how Yurio may react to his next question. “Have you… told Otabek? About…”

Yurio cuts Yuuri off with a shake of his head.

“Why not?”

“I…” Yurio sighs. “I guess there’s just never been a good time.”

Yuuri doesn’t exactly believe that, but he’s not going to force Yurio into admitting something he isn’t ready to.

“Besides,” Yurio goes on. “I can’t tell him _now_ , can I? He’s competing in the Trophée de France against JJ _and_ Victor, what if he said something to either of them?”

“I don’t think he would, not if you asked him not to.”

Yurio goes quiet again. Yuuri inches a little closer and wraps a hesitant arm around Yurio’s shoulders, gently rubbing his bicep. Yurio relaxes under the touch, a long exhale escaping from his mouth.

“He once compared me to a soldier,” Yurio mumbles. “But soldiers are supposed to be strong, and brave. They’re not supposed to have a fucking meltdown over one dumb, boring kiss.”

“Yuri,” Yuuri says firmly. “You _are_ strong, and you _are_ brave. What happened to you wasn’t just some ‘dumb kiss’, it was much worse than that and you are well within your rights to want to cry and kick and scream over it.”

Yurio sniffles. “I just… I thought I’d start to feel better by now. I mean, I guess I _do_ , in a way, but… I just can’t make myself _forget_ it. It’s been months now but I can still picture it in my mind as clearly as the night it happened.”

“And that’s completely normal. It… I know you don’t like me saying it but it was assault, and you’re _allowed_ to feel emotional about it.”

Surprisingly enough, Yurio doesn’t kick off about the word ‘assault’ like Yuuri had expected him to. “I… I’m still having a lot of… dreams about it.”

“You are?” Yuuri bites his lip. “Are you sure you really don’t want to talk to anybody else about it? A counsellor, maybe? You know I’m always here whenever you need to talk but I can’t help worrying that I’m not _enough_ , or that I’m not saying the right things.”

Yurio huffs in amusement. “You and your damn anxiety. You’re doing _fine_ , idiot, why else do you think I keep talking to you about it?”

Yuuri smiles. “Okay, okay. I’m glad you trust me with this. Have you tried anything to help you sleep better?”

Yurio just shrugs. “Not really. I don’t really know what’ll help.”

Yuuri thinks for a moment. “When my anxiety is acting up, drinking chamomile tea helps me drift off. I always make sure the room is very warm too; I read once that sleeping in a cold room can actually cause nightmares so I bought an electric blanket. It’s nothing fancy but I think it helps.”

“Yeah?” Yurio looks up at him, jade green eyes twinkling with hope.

“Yeah.” Yuuri squeezes his arm again. “Why don’t you come over later? I can give you some things that might help you sleep.”

Yurio immediately tenses beneath Yuuri’s hand. “I don’t know –”

“Hey.” Yuuri is well aware of what could be making Yurio feel awkward. “Don’t you dare let Victor make you feel awkward after yesterday. If you want to come over, then come over.”

“I…” Yurio rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe.”

Yuuri smiles, before adding as an afterthought, “Oh, I should probably warn you that Victor will be trying to apologise to you at some point today.”

Yurio groans. “Ugh. Can’t wait for _that.”_

Yuuri nudges him playfully. “Just thought I should prepare you for it.”

X

Lunch that day is a quiet affair. It’s only Yuuri and Yurio at the table, with Mila off on the phone with Sara gossiping about who got assigned where and Georgi spending an extra ten minutes out on the rink with Yakov. Victor is also gone too, saying he’d gone to get a little something for Yurio before he joins them.

Yurio is silent, but Yuuri expects him to be after their talk earlier. Yurio has a habit of building walls around himself in the name of protecting his feelings, and if he lets those barriers down even a fraction, he gets defensive. He doesn’t like to appear vulnerable, and Yuuri understands that completely. He’s more than happy to give Yurio his space until he’s managed to rebuild his walls again, comforted by the fact that Yurio and he are close enough now that the next time Yurio is ready to lower his defence, he won’t try and push Yuuri away.

The same can’t be said for Victor. Yurio is still mad about the way Victor spoke to him, and Yuuri can’t see him letting Victor off the hook anytime soon. Yuuri isn’t going to attempt to convince Yurio to forgive Victor; the boy has every right to be angry and seeing the lasting damage of his actions should teach Victor an important lesson, that he can’t just take his frustrations out on his loved ones and expect them to let him.

And there Yuuri goes again, having to treat Victor like a child.

A short while later, Yuuri sees Victor enter the cafeteria over Yurio’s shoulders. He’s carrying a plastic bag in one hand, and his demeanour appears nervous. He catches Yuuri’s eye and gives him a questioning look, nodding his head towards Yurio who still hasn’t noticed his arrival. Yuuri gives him a subtle nod, and hold his breath as he waits for Victor to approach them.

“Hi, love,” Victor smiles at Yuuri first, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He straightens up and casts another, slightly nervous smile at Yurio. “Hi, baby. You okay?”

Yurio doesn’t say a word, face fixed into a dark glare as he stares unblinkingly up at Victor.

Victor waits hesitantly for several seconds before clearing his throat and sliding into the seat beside Yuuri. He places the bag he’d been holding onto the table and pushes it towards Yurio.

“I got you some presents. All your favourite candy. Just promise you won’t tell Yakov, okay?”

Yurio takes the bag without a word, placing it onto the floor below him without looking inside and continuing to push his food around his plate.

“Look, Yuri,” Victor sighs. “I’m really sorry for the way I spoke to you yesterday. I was a little… distracted with my choreography and I took my frustration out on you, which I know was wrong of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

Yurio continues to ignore Victor. Yuuri bites his lip, caught between wanting to let Yurio be rightfully mad, and just wanting the tension to disappear and for everyone to get along again.

Victor doesn’t let Yurio’s lack of interest deter him. “So, if you wanted to, maybe later I could go over the quad flip with you?”

That finally catches Yurio’s attention. He drops his fork onto his plate, crumbs flying out across the table as he fixes Victor with the coldest stare Yuuri has ever seen.

“You know what?” he snarls. “I don’t think I _want_ any help from an old, washed-up moron who throws a tantrum the second things get a little stressful. I don’t _want_ to pretend to be grateful just because you offered me ten minutes of your precious time. And I _definitely_ don’t want to be able to do any jump that’s remotely _associated_ with you, because the thought of people thinking that we have anything to do with each other makes me wanna vomit in my own mouth. So you can take your fucking quad flip, and shove it up your _ass.”_

At that, Yurio kicks back his chair and stands up, storming out of the cafeteria without a backwards glance.

Yuuri and Victor sit in shocked silence for a long moment. Yuuri chances a glance up at Victor, and his heart jumps in his chest at the sight of Victor’s crestfallen face.

“What did I do wrong?” Victor mumbles.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Victor. Yurio needs time to be mad before he’ll even think about forgiving you. You just have to be patient, and keep finding ways to show him that you’re sorry.”

Victor nods, and then collapses down onto the table with his head buried in his arms. Yuuri just rubs his back for him, wistfully thinking back to a few months ago when things were easier and the tension between everyone was non-existent.

X

Later on that afternoon, the skaters all take a short water break on the side of the rink after an intense couple of hours of practice. Yuuri is planning on heading over to the ballet studio afterwards to correct his form for his free skate again, and of course, Victor had insisted on coming with him, so both of them have already changed out of their skates as they wait for their breaths to catch up with them.

Victor has collapsed dramatically onto one of the benches and is bantering with Yakov as Mila and Georgi laugh. Yurio, as expected, does not look amused.

Victor is currently teasing Yakov about an embarrassing incident that Yakov had had when he was younger, involving a very formal post World Championships banquet and a _lot_ of alcohol.

“Oh, please, Vitya,” Yakov says with a roll of his eyes. “As if that story is in any way worse than the crap you’ve pulled in the past.”

“I don’t know,” Victor says with an innocent shrug of his shoulders. “I know _I’ve_ never pulled down the pants of one of the judges and then puked on the buffet table.”

Yakov goes red in the face, a particular vein bulging on his temple as the other skaters burst out laughing. He begins to grumble, mostly to himself.

Victor’s smirk is still very much fixed on his face. He says with a sigh, “I just don’t think it’s very _classy_ , Yakov.”

“Oh really?” Yakov bites, apparently done with Victor’s nonsense. “Not like getting caught having sex in a filthy, public bathroom?”

The effect on Victor is immediate, his body wincing as the teasing smirk he’d been wearing drops from his face. He glances over at Yuuri, alarm briefly crossing his features.

“Oh yeah!” Mila laughs, eyes twinkling with glee. “I almost forgot about Victor and Chris’ wild night in Beijing!”

Yuuri’s stomach drops, and his mind kicks into overdrive.

_W… what? But… Victor said he’d never been with any of the other skaters…_

He glances over at Yurio who merely shrugs in response, looking as clueless as Yuuri feels.

He turns with wide, hurt eyes to Victor, who is staring down at the ground with a face as white as a sheet. As though he can sense Yuuri’s stare, he peeks up, and the overwhelming guilt in his eyes is enough to confirm Mila’s words.

Yuuri’s breath leaves him in one rush, voice shaky and thick with emotion as he stammers, “You told me you never slept with any other skaters.”

Yakov and the others have gone quiet, eyes darting between Yuuri and Victor like they’re watching a damn tennis match.

“Yuuri, I…” Victor runs a hand through his hair, agitated. “I can explain –”

Yuuri grabs his bag from the floor and turns away before letting Victor continue, blindly hurrying away towards the locker rooms with a stinging layer of tears clouding his vision. He can hear someone following him, probably Victor, but he pays no attention, focusing all of his energy on _getting away_ as quickly as possible.

Victor catches up with him just as Yuuri reaches the locker room, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him. “Yuuri, _wait_.”

Yuuri spins around, the movement startling Victor enough to still him. The door slams shut behind them, and the silence that forms is deafening.

Yuuri huffs, roughly pushing up his glasses and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He stares directly into Victor’s eyes, not letting him look away for even a second.

“You lied to me, Victor.”

Victor looks crushed. He reaches out to touch Yuuri but seems to think the better of it, hands uselessly hovering between them instead. “Yuuri, please, just let me explain.”

Yuuri buries his face in his hands for a moment, glasses pressing uncomfortably into the bridge of his nose as he takes a steadying breath.

“Fine,” he finally mumbles, hands falling away but being unable to lift his gaze from the floor.

“It… it happened years ago, at the Grand Prix Final in Beijing. It was after the banquet, Chris and I had both been drinking and it just… happened. And Yakov was wrong, we weren’t doing it in the public bathroom, we were just… kissing in there.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes at that last part, as if Victor thought that was a crucial detail.

“Yuuri,” Victor sounds terse, anxious. “Yuuri, the only reason I didn’t tell you was because I knew how you’d react. I know how… insecure you can get and I didn’t want to tell you some small, irrelevant thing from my past because I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

Yuuri takes another deep breath, heart still pounding against his ribcage as he says as evenly as he can, “Victor, I can understand why you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me, I can. But I asked you if there had ever been anyone else and you looked me right in the eye and said _no._ You lied to my face, and _that’s_ why I’m mad.”

“Yuuri, please, I didn’t lie to you to hurt you, it was to _protect_ you!”

Yuuri huffs and throws his arms up, his actions dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, my hero! Shame you forgot to tell everyone else in this damn rink to keep your dirty little secret for you, right?”

Victor frowns at that. “It’s not a _dirty little secret._ I’m not ashamed of what I did with Chris; I just knew you’d be happier not knowing about it. Is _that_ what you want me to say? That I regret sleeping with him?”

Yuuri blinks, gulping heavily. “Well, no –”

“Good, because I don’t. I can’t apologise for something that happened before I even met you, Yuuri.”

“Yeah, and I’m not expecting you to!” Yuuri’s hands tangle in his hair, tugging. “God, I just… of all the people… it just had to be _Chris_ , didn’t it?”

Victor’s eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Victor, look at us! Chris is tall and handsome and confident, he’s experienced and he doesn’t get completely flustered whenever someone so much as _talks_ to him. And I’m…”

_None of those things._

Victor’s face crumples, and he takes a step closer. “Yuuri, please, don’t compare yourself to Chris like that.”

“How can I _not?”_ Yuuri’s breathing is picking up speed, chest tightening with every weak attempt to take in oxygen. “You went from someone like him to someone like me, and _everyone_ around here knows it. God, they must think of me as a… a _downgrade_ for you –”

“Yuuri, stop!” Victor’s voice is firm. “You are in no way a downgrade, and you need to calm down or you’re going to get into a panic.”

Victor reaches out and tries to rub Yuuri’s arms, but Yuuri instinctively bats him away and rushes to take a step back. Hurt flashes across Victor’s face, and Yuuri’s heart aches in response.

“D-don’t, please don’t touch me right now,” Yuuri says quietly, wrapping his arms around himself and looking down at the ground.

Victor nods weakly, hands falling back to his sides. Yuuri watches them clench into fists.

“Yuuri, please,” he says quietly. “I… I understand that you have your insecurities but what I had with Chris was nothing more than a one night stand. It honestly isn’t a big deal.”

It hurts that Victor doesn’t get why Yuuri is so upset. “Well, it’s a big deal to _me_. You know… how shy I am when it comes to sex. And now I feel even worse about it, because I know that the whole time we’ve been together you’ve been comparing me to Chris! Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?”

“But Yuuri, I don’t compare you to Chris! Chris and I… it was just, I don’t know… getting it out of our systems! It’s completely different with you.”

“Different how?” Yuuri finds himself asking, anxiety running away from him and spilling from his mouth in a series of panicked questions. “Boring? Awkward? Tedious?”

“What? _No_. None of those things!”

Yuuri scoffs. “Really, so you’re telling me that Chris wasn’t confident and adventurous and fun when you slept with him?”

“Well…” Victor’s eyes dart around the room, as though he’s looking for some sort of help or answers. “No, but –”

“See!” The tears that have been threatening to spill since entering the locker room finally flood over, leaving hot, wet trails down both of his cheeks. “And I know I don’t stand a chance of competing against that!”

Victor sighs, rubbing both hands over his face and looking as worn as though he’s just skated three consecutive routines. “Yuuri, I… I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“I don’t want you to say what you think _I_ want you to say. I want you to say what you’re actually thinking!”

“Okay, fine.” Victor takes a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling for a few seconds as though to ground himself. “Yes, it was good with Chris. And it was fun, and it was reckless. But it also wasn’t _special_. Chris and I don’t have those sorts of feelings for each other, we even talked about it the morning after and we both agreed we don’t want each other that way. But with _you_ , it’s intimate and it’s comfortable, because I _love_ you.”

_It’s also boring. Boring boring boring._

Yuuri’s mind screams the word over and over, the sound of it making his ears ring. The tears begin to fall harder, a dull ache already spreading through his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri. I wouldn’t expect you to understand casual sex, anyway,” Victor sighs. “You were still a virgin until a few months ago.”

The patronisation, whether it had been deliberate or not, stings. Yuuri is glad that he can barely see through the heavy teardrops still collecting in his eyes, too humiliated to even look at Victor anymore.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.” Victor sounds remorseful, he really does. “I just… I thought it’d be easier that way.”

The words cut deep. If Victor thinks that lying makes things _easier_ , what are the chances that there are a hundred other things that he has lied about?

Yuuri’s voice cracks, along with his heart. He doesn’t think he is able to spend another second shut within this room. “I… I used to think you would never be capable of lying to me, Victor. I guess I was wrong.”

He pushes past Victor and pulls the door handle with a shaking hand. Any thoughts of practice or waiting for Yurio to come home with him is wiped completely from his memory. He picks up the pace, stumbling out of the rink and blindly wondering if he’ll ever be able to shake the mental image of Victor and Chris from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna leave this chapter here and then run for cover. SORRY FOR THE ANGST
> 
> Thank you so much if you've left a comment or a kudos on this fic so far, or if you've bookmarked or subscribed! It means a lot to me, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story. 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> (Also you may have noticed that we now have nineteen chapters instead of sixteen... yeah. It seems I can't be stopped.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor leaves for Skate America, and Yurio receives a very surprising phone call.

Standing on the bathroom scales for the third time that day, Yuuri stares down at the reading and sighs. His weight has been creeping up lately, thankfully slowed down by the intense training and exercising he’s been doing but still. The Grand Prix Series is right around the corner now and being the weight he is is not the ideal way to start the season. If Yuuri wants any chance of getting the gold this time, he needs regain control over his eating habits.

Unfortunately, that’s near impossible for him given the current state of his anxiety.

After the awful argument with Victor over what happened with Chris all those years ago, the two of them have barely been able to look each other in the eye. The aftermath certainly hadn’t been pretty; Yuuri had locked himself in their bedroom when he’d finally stumbled home, sobs wracking his body and hiding beneath the blankets as he ignored the many notifications buzzing away on his phone. Victor had returned home a short while later, sounding more stressed than Yuuri has ever heard him as he begged for Yuuri to let him in but eventually leaving Yuuri to be sad in peace, per Yuuri’s request.

Even after calming down, Yuuri had decided not to bring up the argument again. He hasn’t wanted to talk about it with Victor at all, hating how the mere memories of what had been said make him feel as though the world is closing in around him. Like a very bad dream that he can’t seem to wake up from.

As expected, Victor hadn’t said a word about the argument either, probably following Yuuri’s lead. Victor is even worse than he’d been after Yuuri found out about him sneaking out at night to practice; then, he’d been needy and clingy, not leaving Yuuri alone for a second. Now, it’s quite the opposite. It’s as though he’s frightened to be around Yuuri, not wanting to say too much and accidentally offend him in some way again.

It’s quiet at home, now. Yuuri hates it with all of his being, but that still doesn’t prompt him to do anything to fix it.

_“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I just… thought it’d be easier that way.”_

Yuuri shudders as the words that have been haunting him for weeks creep up on him once again. His stomach aches, and he heads to the kitchen for another snack. Food doesn’t take away the pain, but it provides as a brief, very welcome distraction.

X

Skate America is the first event of the Grand Prix Series, and Victor and Georgi are both competing. Yuuri hadn’t accompanied Victor to New York where the competition will be held; he’s got his own qualifiers to prepare for and even without the simmering tension between the two of them, he still wouldn’t be expected to attend.

Instead, he stays at home and watches it with Yurio and Mila. Mila brings her laptop and hooks it up to the television so they can watch on the big screen, and Yurio contributes an enormous bag of snacks for them to share. Yuuri is endlessly grateful that the two of them are here; their incessant bickering does an excellent job of taking his mind off Victor.

They’d watched the Short Programs together the day before, and Victor is currently in the lead. Georgi is in second place, and Leo de la Iglesia who is representing the United States is in third. Now, the Free Skate show is about to begin, and Yuuri, Yurio and Mila gather themselves around the television in preparation.

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat at the sight of Victor entering the ice for the six minute warm up. Even though Yuuri is upset over how easily Victor had hurt him with his blasé attitude and tactless way of speaking, he can’t help but think that Victor is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He is captivating to watch, even in 2D and surrounded by crowds of other people, drawing Yuuri in like a moth to a flame.

Yurio and Mila don’t seem nearly as affected by Victor’s presence as Yuuri is, neither of them bothering to watch the somewhat mundane warm-ups as Yurio makes a sandwich out of chips and candy and Mila scrolls through her phone.

“Hey, have you seen?” Mila pipes up, forcing Yuuri to drag his attention away from the screen. “JJ and Isabella announced their wedding date; January 16th.”

Yuuri’s eyes dart to Yurio, as they always do when there’s any mention of JJ. Yurio is relatively calm though, continuing to build his sandwich tower as he grunts at Mila, “Who cares?”

“ _I_ do. I hope I get an invite because I bet their families are loaded. Imagine the spread they’ll put on. Imagine the _open bar.”_

Yurio rolls his eyes. “You need to get your priorities straight. You’d actually go to that jerk’s wedding just to get free food?”

“You _wouldn’t?”_ Mila asks incredulously. “Besides, it’d probably be a pretty good party.”

“Whatever,” Yurio grumbles, slamming down on a few chips with his fist and then sprinkling the crumbs on his disgusting sandwich. “I’d rather pair skate with Georgi than go anywhere near that Canadian puke fest.”

Cheering sounds suddenly erupt from the television, effectively ending the conversation and pulling everyone’s attention back to what’s happening on screen. Yuuri gives one last glance at Yurio and catches his eye, giving him a small, reassuring smile which softens Yurio’s frown.

Since Victor is currently in first, he is the last skater to take to the ice. Yuuri’s breath leaves him in a rush when Victor removes his track jacket, revealing the tight-fitting, all black costume with delicate shimmers that stands as a striking contrast against his fair hair.

The audience goes wild when Victor skates out, screaming twice as loud as they did for any other skater and waving their signs and banners to show their support. The level of enthusiasm for Victor’s return has completely overshadowed most of Skate America, and Yuuri can’t help but feel a little bad for the other skaters who haven’t received the same amount of attention from the crowds. The reactions had been expected though. Victor is a living legend of figure skating after all, and after a yearlong break, it’s clear he has been well and truly missed.

JJ may have had that ridiculous song composed about himself, but Victor has always been the real King on the ice.

When the crowd has finally settled down, Victor gets into his starting position and the music begins. Yuuri had been surprised when he’d first heard Victor’s choice of music for his Free Skate; it’s a very strong piece that quickly builds in intensity and leaves the heart racing. Victor hasn’t skated to anything as _intense_ as this before, and he’d mentioned once that he liked it because of how it fills him with adrenaline. Yuuri thinks that must come in very useful for improving his stamina, especially during the Free Skate which is much longer than the Short Program.

Victor’s theme this season is ‘Power’, and it shows in the way he holds himself. His routine is a direct response to every news article and comment that has questioned his ability to compete after his break – that he is still strong, still capable, and still very much undefeated.

The orchestral piece builds quickly, exploding into the main melody as Victor executes a perfect quad flip. The audience bursts with awe at the sight of his signature move, their gasps and cheers melding with the ethereal sound of brass and percussion. Yuuri’s heart is in his mouth, gaping at the television along with Yurio and Mila who are both completely silent, wide eyes fixed unblinkingly on Victor as he tears across the ice.

It’s as though he never left.

It comes as no surprise when the gold medal is placed around Victor’s neck.

Mila claps along with the crowd on television and then quickly whips out her phone to leave Victor a text to read when he’s off the ice, and even Yurio, who is still pissed at Victor after he snapped at him over the quad flip, admits that the medal was well-earned.

Yuuri is thrilled, of course, and he wishes with all his heart that he could be there on the other side of the barrier to greet Victor with a congratulatory kiss. It’s wonderful, that Victor has managed to once again steal the gold despite being notably older than most of the other skaters and having had a whole year away, and really, the results of this competition should soothe Victor’s insecurities over his comeback and hopefully he’ll stop training to the point of exhaustion.

But Yuuri is secretly worried. He admires every single one of the skaters who competed in Skate America; Georgi and Leo were especially impressive and also scored a place on the podium. But none of the skaters there are generally expected to make it to the Final, nor have any of them bar Victor made it to the Final before. This was a relatively ‘easy’ win for Victor, so to speak.

That will probably not be the case next time. Victor’s next competition is the Trophée de France, where his competitors will include JJ and Otabek who after last year’s performance, are both expected to make it to the Final. JJ’s routines always have an extremely high base value, and from what Yurio has told Yuuri, Otabek is working particularly hard this year to ensure a place on the podium.

Just the thought of the Trophée de France makes Yuuri’s stomach feel funny, like it’s filled with snakes all squirming to get out. Victor is a breath-taking skater, but how will he fare against two much younger skaters who have both proven they’re capable of getting gold? Will he be able to cope under the pressure?

Yuuri isn’t sure.

X

Mila goes home shortly after the Free Skate finishes; she’s due to be competing in Skate Canada within the next week so she can’t afford to be staying out late. Yurio stays longer though, and the two of them bustle about the living room tidying up the mess that they’ve made over the past two days.

As Yurio is sweeping crumbs off the coffee table, his phone starts to ring, so he collapses down onto the couch and fishes it out of his pocket.

Yuuri glances up at him as Yurio checks the caller ID, and knows from the second when Yurio’s face falls that something is wrong. He drops the garbage bag he’s holding and sits down beside Yurio who has frozen in place, eyes fixed on the small screen as it continues to ring away in his hand.

“Who is it?” Yuuri asks.

Yurio swallows thickly. “It’s JJ.”

Yuuri’s stomach churns, wondering what on Earth JJ could have to say. “Has he tried to call you before?”

Yurio shakes his head, thumb moving to hover over the ‘Accept’ button. As though on autopilot, he jabs the button and holds the phone up to his ear, face a noticeable shade paler than it had been a minute ago. His other hand reaches out and intertwines with Yuuri’s, gripping tightly enough to almost mask the way he’s started to tremble.

“H-hello?”

Yuuri can barely make out any sound on the other end, but it’s very clear when the person speaks that it is definitely _not_ JJ. “Hi, Yuri?”

A female voice. The frown that forms on Yurio’s face perfectly mirrors how Yuuri feels.

“Yeah? Who is this?”

The woman sounds nervous. “It’s Bella. Isabella. JJ’s fiancé, we met at last year’s Grand Prix?”

Yurio casts Yuuri a quick, incredulous look. “Yeah, I remember. What do you want?”

Yuuri edges closer so he can hear Isabella better, rubbing Yurio’s arm to reassure him.

Isabella seems a little taken aback by Yurio’s bold words. She clears her throat. “Um, well, I’m not sure if you saw on one of our Instagrams earlier that JJ and I announced the date for our wedding?”

A deep crease has settled between Yurio’s brows, and his voice already sounds strained. “Yeah, so? What does that have to do with me?”

Isabella sighs, heavy and tired. “He told me what happened with you after the World Championships the other month.”

Yurio squeezes Yuuri’s hand tighter, his breath hitching. “He… he did?”

“Yes.”

Yurio chews on his bottom lip for a moment, looking as though he’s thinking at a mile a minute. “What exactly did he tell you?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “That he… he drank too much and… he, um… misread the situation and made you uncomfortable –”

“Is that _all_ he said?”

Isabella sighs again. “… I know that he took advantage of you. And that he didn’t stop when you told him to. First of all, I just want to say how sorry I am, Yuri –”

Yurio quickly shakes his head, even though Isabella can’t see him do so. “Don’t. That’s… it’s not your job to apologise for him.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just… I can’t imagine what you must have been through these past few months. I… how have you been?”

The question seems to catch Yurio off guard, his mouth parting without any words actually coming out. Yuuri doesn’t blame him for being startled.

“Peachy,” Yurio finally says, not saying another word and making it clear he isn’t interested in talking about his feelings.

Isabella doesn’t prod him. “Listen, the reason I’m calling is because I want to clear the air. See, JJ and I would love it if all the other skaters could make it to the wedding. Including you.”

Yurio scoffs. _“Why?”_

“Because we want to bring everyone together. We want to celebrate and have a good time, which I think a lot of us deserve after a rough year.”

Yurio looks up at Yuuri, eyes wide and disbelieving, before sighing into the phone and saying, “No, I mean… why are you still _with_ him?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the phone, so much so that Yuuri glances at the screen to check that Isabella hasn’t hung up.

“I love him,” she finally says. “And honestly, it’s been a really tough few months; we almost broke up because of what happened. JJ made a huge mistake that hurt all of us, trust me, I am well aware of that.”

“ _Exactly._ He did something shitty, so why didn’t you dump his ass the second you found out about it?”

“Because it’s not that simple, Yuri.” Isabella sounds weary. “In relationships, not everything is so black and white, and when the person you love does something wrong, those feelings of love don’t just go away.”

Yurio’s face screws up, eyes shining with the extra moisture that’s quickly gathering there. “That’s _bullshit._ You’re just making excuses for what he did to me!”

“No, Yuri, I’m not trying to justify what he did. It’s just… I’ve seen the other side of the situation here. JJ is… he’s been struggling to come to terms with what happened; he feels so guilty he hasn’t been sleeping or eating properly. He hasn’t had a drop of alcohol since that night. My fiancé isn’t a bad person, Yuri, as much as you probably think he is. Yes, he was idiotic and insensitive, and he hurt you because of it, but he would never intentionally cause harm to anyone. And that’s why I can’t leave him, especially after seeing how he’s struggled these past few months.”

Yurio loosens his grip on the phone, hand falling into his lap as he abruptly hangs up on Isabella. Yuuri watches him with wide eyes for a few, long seconds, unable to judge what Yurio is thinking or how he’s going to react.

The beginnings of tears that had been glistening in Yurio’s eyes finally spill over, gliding down his cheeks and turning his nose a delicate shade of pink. Yuuri’s chest tightens at the sight and he pulls Yurio closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and hugging him.

At first, Yurio is silent, tears going ignored as he stares a hole into the carpet. But as Yuuri rubs his arm and gently rocks him, the trembles wracking his body gradually increase until his chest is heaving with sobs.

Yuuri doesn’t say a word, not wanting to overwhelm Yurio. Instead, he provides him with all the non-verbal comfort he can, leaning forward to grab the tissue box from the coffee table and handing one to Yurio. They stay in that position for several long moments as Yurio cries, television still playing quietly in the background as each of the skaters get interviewed. Yuuri barely pays them any attention.

Eventually, Yurio quietens down until his sobs are nothing more than tiny sniffles, exhaling heavily and shifting against Yuuri to find a more comfortable position. He leans in closer, pressing his face against Yuuri’s neck and leaving damp patches there as he huffs, “What the _fuck.”_

Yuuri gives a weak, humourless laugh. “Yeah. I definitely wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

They fall quiet again, Yuuri gently stroking Yurio’s hair away from his face as he gives Yurio space to calm down somewhat.

“Can I ask you a question?” Yurio finally asks, voice quiet and uncertain.

“Of course.”

He lifts his head up from Yuuri’s shoulder, though he keeps his eyes trained down at his lap. “What JJ did to me… am I over-reacting about it?”

“What?” Yuuri’s heart sinks. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because… it sounds like this whole thing has put Isabella through some shit that she didn’t even deserve. I almost ruined their damn relationship.”

“No, you didn’t,” Yuuri says firmly. “JJ almost ruined their relationship all by himself.”

Yurio fiddles with the tissue in his hands, ripping off a corner and balling it up tightly. He mumbles, “I just feel so _guilty_ now.”

“Isabella doesn’t want you to feel guilty, _kotyonok_ , that’s not why she called you.”

“Then why _did_ she call me? As if they fucking want me at their wedding that bad, I don’t believe that for one second.”

“I think they do want you there, they want _all_ of us there. I don’t think she was lying about wanting to bring everyone together, especially since JJ can be pretty obnoxious and I guess this is their way of making friends. But she’s also worried about her fiancé. I’m not saying you should feel in any way responsible for him having a rough time but Isabella loves him and despite probably still being very upset with him, she doesn’t want to see him like that.”

Yurio huffs, dropping his head back onto Yuuri’s shoulder. “I don’t get it. Why do people stay in relationships even when the other person does something wrong?”

“I…”

Yuuri’s eyes drift over the television, where the reporters have finally reached Victor and are piling question after question upon him. Victor looks unfazed, having had years of experience in the media’s spotlight, and he chatters away to them with an easy smile as his gold medal glints under the lights where it rests proudly on his chest.

A lump rises up in Yuuri’s throat, and he swallows around it heavily. Yurio’s question is an extremely loaded one with many possible answers, all of them ones that Yuuri doesn’t have a clue how to explain. He stares at his fiancé, mind drifting away from Yurio has he considers his question.

Relationships are still so new and unfamiliar to Yuuri. They can be messy and complicated and confusing, they can make him feel like he’s soaring through the clouds and standing on top of the world, or like the ground has swallowed him up in the most heavy and all-consuming way. He doesn’t understand how relationships work, and he’s not sure he ever will. But does _anybody_ understand them?

What he has with Victor has always been so natural. They’d fallen into each other as though they’d known each other forever, their fates already written in the stars. Nobody has ever made him feel the way Victor does, so exhilarated yet comfortable at the same time, emotions laid bare in a way that should be terrifying but just isn’t, because it’s _Victor._ Victor has been able to see through Yuuri’s barriers from the very start and for the first time in his life, Yuuri is okay with being so open with another person. Victor is patient and understanding, if a little haphazard with his words sometimes, and he has never made Yuuri feel anything akin to weak.

Until recently. Because now, it’s clear as day that Victor is hiding some insecurities of his own and for whatever reason, Yuuri has been unable to get through to him. Yuuri _hates_ that Victor won’t open up to him the way he has for Victor, and it makes him feel unbelievably inadequate. Does Victor not trust him? He’s already explicitly stated that he thinks it’s easier to _lie_ to Yuuri sometimes rather than tell him the truth.

For a brief second, Victor looks directly into the screen, and Yuuri’s stomach dives. He tightens his grasp on Yurio’s arm and rests his cheek against the top of his head, sighing heavily and admitting:

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Yurio-centric chapter! I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> I don't want anyone to think badly of Isabella; it's a very difficult situation that she's in and she had a tough decision to make. The point of this chapter was to capture the fact that relationships aren't always black and white, and love can be a very complicated and messy thing. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finally confronts Victor over his excessive training.

Victor is odd when he comes home from Skate America. Not in the sense that he’s acting differently; he’s still bubbly during practice and chats with everybody he sees, he still teases Yakov and ignores his instructions, and he still watches Yuuri skate with that now familiar look of adoration and offers Yuuri the highest praise and helpful advice for his programs.

No, the problem is that Yuuri has barely seen Victor outside of the rink all week. He’s started leaving the house even before Yuuri has woken up each morning and is staying later and later in the evenings, arriving home half an hour later with every passing day. When he _is_ home, he’s too exhausted to do anything apart from thank Yuuri for dinner and go straight to sleep. He’s unnaturally quiet as well, even more than he was before he left for America, and the silence in the house is making Yuuri itch.

He’s starting to worry that Victor is avoiding him.

That may just be Yuuri’s anxiety speaking for him, which has been slowly creeping up on him ever since the Grand Prix Series started. Yuuri is proud of himself for keeping it under wraps, at least enough to prevent anybody else from noticing, but the comfort eating is still a problem. He finds himself more often than not stood by the kitchen counter mindlessly eating some kind of unhealthy snack as he deliberates exactly _why_ Victor doesn’t seem to want to be around him anymore.

Yuuri half wonders if the concerns he felt after watching Victor take gold at Skate America are in fact true; that Victor is nervous about facing Otabek and JJ during his next qualifier and is putting himself under even more pressure than usual to ensure another win. But if that’s really the case, why would Victor not want to talk to Yuuri about that?

With each hour that Yuuri spends alone, his thoughts slowly spiral into more ludicrous ideas. Maybe Victor simply doesn’t trust his own fiancé anymore? Maybe this is Victor’s passive aggressive way of telling Yuuri that he’s mad at him about something? The two of them haven’t even had sex since their argument over Chris; maybe Victor is angry with Yuuri for not keeping him satisfied?

Some of these ideas are almost definitely unreasonable. Yuuri is well aware of how his anxiety can play keep-away with his rationality sometimes, especially when he gets stressed, and he curses his own brain for overwhelming him with these ridiculous thoughts. This generally brings around another bout of hunger, and Yuuri is right back to square one with another piece of toast in his hand and a heavy sense of shame in his heart. He turns to gaze wistfully at the front door, hoping that Victor will walk through it and reassure Yuuri with honest words and affectionate touches.

He doesn’t though, not until Yuuri has made himself nauseous with how much he’s eaten and hidden all of the food wrappers from sight. He sighs as he watches Victor face-plants the couch, already looking drained and half-asleep. It seems as though Victor is still very much closed off for now.

X

It’s Friday night, and Yuuri is settled on the couch watching a movie on TV. Victor had arrived home not long ago, and is sitting at the table finishing dinner as he watches the movie from a distance with sleepy eyes. It’s something Russian, and Yuuri has turned on English subtitles so he can follow the story but it’s not nearly as enjoyable as when Victor sits beside him excitedly explaining what’s going on with melodramatic gestures.

He hears Victor push back his chair and stand up, pottering about the kitchen as he finishes washing the dishes and giving the counters a quick tidy up. Yuuri doesn’t pay him much attention, assuming that Victor will go to bed straight after.

But he doesn’t. Instead, Victor approaches the couch, sitting down beside Yuuri and curling his legs up under him. There’s a small, unnatural distance between them which Yuuri hates but still, this is the closest Victor has come all week to spending time with him outside of the rink.

Yuuri doesn’t say anything, but he shifts his body in the direction of Victor to make himself more welcoming.

As the movie goes on, Victor edges closer to Yuuri until the distance between them is almost non-existent, leaning his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and sighing softly as he makes himself comfortable. Yuuri’s stomach swoops, a small smile forming on his face as he relishes in the warmth of his fiancé’s body pressed up against him. He brings an arm up and wraps it around Victor, nuzzling against the top of his head with his cheek as they continue to quietly watch the movie together.

They go to bed at the same time, a rare occurrence these days. Yuuri dresses himself in boxers and one of Victor’s practice shirts and Victor strips down completely, always needing to sleep naked. When they slip into bed, Yuuri settles himself beneath the blankets as he leans over to give Victor a customary goodnight kiss.

Though this time, he doesn’t immediately pull away. The kiss is chaste but there’s a heat behind it, the kind that gently prods Yuuri in the base of his stomach. He tests the waters, kissing Victor open-mouthed and for longer, and is pleased when the heat within him flares up and zips up his spine.

Neither of them say anything about it. Instead, they silently reach out for each other and lose themselves as the kisses gradually turn more intense, the temperature under the sheets rising as passion envelopes them.

God, it’s been so _long_ since they were intimate like this. Yuuri has been putting off sex ever since finding out about Victor and Chris because of his own insecurities and the fear of Victor comparing him in bed to the Swiss skater. But it’s been long enough now, and the ache of missing his fiancé is quickly overshadowing Yuuri’s anxieties.

It’s relieving for Victor to be returning the ardency tonight as well. He’s been so exhausted lately he hasn’t even bothered trying to seduce Yuuri in any way, physical contact between them not going any further than some half-hearted cuddling. But tonight, Victor seems to be casting his tiredness aside, hands roaming over Yuuri’s body as the two of them lie down properly together.

When Victor settles himself on top of Yuuri, Yuuri breaks the kiss to cast a small smile up at him, murmuring, “I missed you.”

Victor smiles too, bright and beautiful, erasing any sign of fatigue from his pretty face for a brief moment. “I missed you, too.”

Victor captures his lips again, and a bubble of hope rises within Yuuri’s chest. Maybe tonight, something will shift between them? Victor hasn’t been this open with him in a while, and the physical contact is rapidly reigniting the spark between them. Yuuri has been avoiding any kind of ‘emotional conversation’ lately; too wrapped up in his own anxieties to even consider it, but if Victor is willing to open up to him tonight, then Yuuri is more than happy to do the same.

Victor reaches down and begins to gently tug on the hem of Yuuri’s shirt, trying to urge it up. On instinct, Yuuri’s hands fly down and push Victor away, taking hold of his hand and moving it back up to his chest. Victor doesn’t take the hint, hand sliding back down Yuuri’s body until they reach the bottom of his shirt again.

Panic surges through Yuuri’s body, briefly replacing his arousal. He wants to have sex with Victor, but he is painfully aware of the extra layer of fat that has been building due to all of his over-eating the past few weeks. He’s been doing his best to hide it from Victor but if Victor takes off the shirt now, it’ll be impossible to disguise. Yuuri isn’t ready to explain how the extra weight got there despite all the intense training he’s been doing.

So he pushes Victor’s hand away once again. Unfortunately, Victor is all too wrapped up in the heated kisses to really pay attention to what Yuuri is trying to tell him, hand quickly returning to its goal and tugging again.

“C’mon, Yuuri,” he says in a teasing, flirtatious tone. “Let me see you.”

Yuuri doesn’t reply, still allowing Victor to kiss him but keeping a firm grasp on his shirt. His arousal is ebbing away, his stomach twisting into a knot at the thought of Victor discovering the state he’s let his body become.

Victor seems to think it’s a game. Yuuri can’t blame him, since he’s enjoyed teasing Victor like this a number of times in the past.

“Please, Yuuri,” he says with a small laugh. “Come on; show me how beautiful you are!”

Victor frees the shirt enough to reveal a small strip of bare skin. It’s enough to send Yuuri into a panic, placing both hands on Victor’s shoulders and firmly pushing him away.

Victor’s smile drops, and he stares down at Yuuri with questioning wide eyes.

Yuuri’s voice is sharp. “Victor, either we do it with my shirt on or we don’t do it at _all.”_

Victor’s expression doesn’t change for a long moment as his eyes search over Yuuri’s face. Eventually, he pulls away, still hovering over Yuuri but putting a small amount of distance between them. “Okay. Can I… can I ask why?”

Yuuri just shrugs, too embarrassed to admit to his secret eating. Victor will be so disappointed if he finds out.

Victor looks hurt, giving Yuuri his infamous puppy eyes. “I’m your _fiancé_ , Yuuri. If there’s something bothering you then you should be able to tell me.”

 _Wow._ All of the blood in Yuuri’s body that’d been directed south suddenly rushes back up, burning his cheeks and making him shoot up from beneath Victor. Victor startles, rolling off Yuuri and blinking rapidly at him.

“Seriously? Why can’t _I_ tell you something?” Yuuri snaps, unable to stop himself from lashing out as the tension within him finally reaches its boiling point. “You really think that’s something you can say to me?”

Victor has the nerve to look confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yuuri raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really? You’re telling me that there’s been nothing bothering _you_ lately?”

Victor straightens up, brow creasing. “No. Why would there be?”

“ _Really?_ Nothing at all?”

Victor shrugs with one shoulder, giving Yuuri an incredulous look. It riles Yuuri up even further.

“You must think I’m stupid, Victor,” he says, shaking his head. Words that have been building within him for a long time are suddenly bursting out of him. “What about the ridiculous amount of time that you spend at the rink? You’ve been overworking yourself for months and since you came back from America it’s gotten even _worse.”_

Victor’s gaze flickers away from Yuuri’s, looking over his shoulder instead to avoid eye contact. “I… I haven’t been _overworking_ myself.”

“You leave for practice now before I’m even awake. You stay there until it’s nearly time for bed, _and_ you used to sneak out in the middle of the night just to get in a few more hours of training. You’re telling me that’s not overworking yourself?”

“Hey.” Victor’s voice is tight, agitated. “I haven’t practised at night in months, there’s no need to use that against me now.”

Yuuri rubs a hand over his face. “Victor, you’re still practising for over twelve hours a day, _without_ giving yourself proper breaks. It’s not healthy, you must know that!”

Victor is beginning to look irritated, his frown combined with the bags under his eyes making him look much older than he is. “I’ve been a professional for over a decade, Yuuri. I don’t need you to lecture me on how to stay healthy.”

“But it’s _not_ healthy! As my coach, would you expect me to be training for the same amount of hours as you do?”

Victor pointedly avoids the question. “Your programs are solid, Yuuri, you shouldn’t need to worry about training for longer.”

“No, that’s not…” Yuuri grunts, frustrated that Victor doesn’t seem to be getting it. “I’m worried about you, Victor. I just don’t want to see you hurt yourself. I mean, are your programs really worth a potentially serious injury?”

Victor gives a dismissive roll of his eyes, which only adds fuel to the fire burning within Yuuri. “Yuuri, stop, you’re making this out to be a far bigger issue than it actually is. I’m only training hard because I want to perform well at the Grand Prix, why is that such a bad thing to you? Do you not want me to perform well?”

Yuuri sighs. “Victor, you’re not hearing me. I’m not saying that you wanting to do well in the Grand Prix is a bad thing; we _all_ want to do well. It’s the reasons _why_ you want to do so well that are scaring me. I mean… is winning so important to you that you’ll sacrifice your body? Your friends? _Me?”_

Victor’s eyes widen, flashing with fear. “What do you mean, _you?”_

Yuuri shrugs helplessly, mouth parting as he tries to find the right words. “I hardly see you anymore, Victor, and when I do you’re too exhausted to spend any real time with me. I have no idea what’s going on in your head and I _hate_ that. It’s… it’s hard for me to not have you here, and I just… sometimes it doesn’t even feel like we’re a couple anymore.”

Victor’s lip quivers ever so slightly, eyes suddenly shining with extra moisture. “Don’t do that to me, Yuuri. You… you can’t _leave_ me just because –”

“What?” Yuuri cuts Victor off. “No, Victor, I’m not going to _leave_ you. I just… I wish you’d be more honest with me. There are reasons why you’re overworking yourself, whether you want to admit it or not, and it hurts that you won’t open up to me about it.”

Victor’s jaw clenches, and his eyes fall to the sheets covering his lap. He looks to be deep in thought, and Yuuri finds himself perking up marginally as he dares to wonder if Victor might actually, finally be considering bringing up his insecurities. Without even realising, Yuuri inches closer to him, wanting to provide comfort for his fiancé.

“You…” Victor glances up at Yuuri for a brief second before his shoulders sag again, giving a heavy exhale and mumbling, “You wouldn’t understand.”

Yuuri’s entire body deflates. There it is again. It’s not the first time he has heard those words from Victor, and it certainly doesn’t sting any less than the time before. It’s as though Victor is passing the blame off on Yuuri now to give himself an easy escape, that because Yuuri ‘wouldn’t understand’, he shouldn’t be expected to talk about it.

It’s not fair.

“Why should you be the one to decide if I’m going to understand something or not?”

Victor doesn’t answer him. They sit in silence for a few long minutes, the tension between them so thick that Yuuri can feel it against his skin, heavy and suffocating. He’s the first one to make a move, pushing back the blankets and standing up. He mumbles to Victor that he’s going to sleep on the couch, and shuffles out of the room without glancing back. Victor stays silent.

 _This isn’t working_ , Yuuri thinks. He loves and adores Victor with all of his heart, but they can’t keep going on this way. It’s not fair on either of them, and if they continue hurting each other with their own insecurities then their relationship is going to crash and burn. Yuuri has been cursing Victor for weeks over his secretiveness but after the way Yuuri freaked out tonight over Victor discovering his comfort eating, it turns out that Yuuri isn’t much better himself.

Yuuri needs to be bold, now. The Grand Prix is in full swing and with the both of them being as highly strung as they are; it’s unlikely that they’ll be able to completely resolve their issues overnight. It’s going to take patience and time on both of their ends, and it’s not going to happen with the two of them agitating each other this way.

Something needs to change.

X

The next morning, Yuuri arrives at practice with a plan formed in his mind. He gives a quick scan of the rink first and makes a quick note of where everybody is. Victor is no-where in sight, Georgi is practising his spins and Mila and Yuri are chatting on the side-lines, probably about the women’s Skate Canada event which Mila and Yakov had returned from the night before.

Nobody has even noticed Yuuri enter the rink, which works for him perfectly.

Instead of heading over to the others, Yuuri instead turns in a different direction and approaches a door on the right hand side of the rink. He hesitates in front of it for a brief moment before knocking briskly, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure he hasn’t caught anyone’s attention.

A gruff, Russian command answers Yuuri’s knock, and the meaning of it is completely lost on him. He pushes open the door anyway, hoping that he’s actually been given permission to enter, and slips inside the small room.

Yakov is sat behind his desk, scribbling away on a sheet of paper as he frowns at his computer screen. He gives a quick glance up, already poised to scold whoever is interrupting him whilst he’s working, but he does a double take when he sees Yuuri. Yuuri can’t blame him; this is the first time he’s approached Yakov alone since he moved to St. Petersburg.

“Katsuki,” Yakov says, brow softening a small amount. “Do you need something?”

Yuuri gulps, steeling himself. “Um, yes. And it… it might be a little awkward but I really need your help.”

Surprise passes over Yakov’s features for a brief second before his expression settles into his typical glower. “Skating advice? I’ve told Vitya a hundred times if he spent more time actually training you instead of making heart eyes then you’d both –”

“Actually,” Yuuri quickly interrupts, not wanting to be reminded of Victor and his’ previous flirty antics. “It’s not about skating.”

Yakov raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Yuuri shuffles closer to the desk, grasping the hem of his shirt and twisting it between his fingers. “It’s… I… it’s difficult to explain but Victor and I… we’ve been having some problems.”

Yakov doesn’t even try to disguise the surprise this time. “You have? Vitya hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”

Yuuri sighs, mostly to himself. “I think he’s kind of in denial about the whole thing. I’ve been trying to keep it private since the season started but last night we… we fought again and I think we’ve reached our boiling point.”

Yakov’s voice is softer than Yuuri has ever heard it, quiet and dismayed. “You’ve broken up?”

“No!” Yuuri says quickly, heart skipping a beat at the mere thought. “No, but I’m terrified that if things keep going the way they are, then we… might…”

He can’t bring himself to say the words aloud. His gaze falls to the ground.

“I have to admit, Katsuki,” he hears Yakov say. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

Tears brim in Yuuri’s eyes, burning them. “Neither was I.”

Yakov allows him a moment to collect himself, giving no verbal response but instead pushing the tissue box on his desk closer to Yuuri. Yuuri takes one gratefully, mumbling his thanks and dabbing at his eyes. He _really_ doesn’t want to have a complete meltdown in front of Yakov.

Once he feels capable of speaking again, Yuuri sniffs and looks back up at Yakov. “We’ll be okay, I _know_ we will. I just think we need some space for a little while. So I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if there’s a spare room or something at yours and Lilia’s that I could stay in for a few weeks? I can help pay for rent and bills, and cook dinner and clean and –”

Yakov holds up a hand, immediately shutting Yuuri up. “Yes, we have a room you can stay in. But _only_ if you’re completely sure that this is the best thing for your relationship with Vitya.”

Yuuri nods. “I’m sure. We’re both under so much pressure right now with the Grand Prix and… other stuff and it’s just _too much._ It’s not fair. On either of us.”

Yakov sighs deeply. “Well, I’m certainly not going to try and meddle with your relationship. I’m just going to trust that the two of you will make the right choices and not hurt each other because it’d be a damn shame to see you two break up.”

Tears well up in Yuuri’s eyes again and he blinks rapidly to urge them away, nodding in agreement at Yakov’s words. “I know it’s short notice but would I be able to move in after practice tonight? I don’t think it’s a good idea for Victor and I to spend time alone together while we’re both still upset after last night.”

Yakov nods. “Do what you need to do, Katsuki.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri breathes.

With the conversation essentially over, Yuuri turns and heads towards the door. It isn’t until he takes hold of the handle that Yakov suddenly speaks again, stopping him in his tracks and making him look back over his shoulder.

“Katsuki.” Yakov looks torn, shoulders sagging slightly as he stares up at Yuuri. “Like I said, you've got to do what you need to. But please… don’t hurt my boy.”

The heaviness that has been consuming him since last night tugs within his chest, and Yuuri closes his eyes briefly as a wave of hurt rocks him. “I swear, that’s the _last_ thing I’m trying to do.”

Yakov nods, and Yuuri leaves the room without another word. He feels marginally lighter, now having secured a place to stay for the time-being. It feels like progress, meaning that Victor and he are one step closer to fixing their relationship. But now comes the most difficult part… breaking the news to Victor.

Yuuri sighs, and prays that Victor is going to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm just not gonna say anything lmao
> 
> Hope everyone has a wonderful evening!
> 
> Also GUESS WHAT [viiktornikiforovs](http://viiktornikiforovs.tumblr.com/) on tumblr wrote an amazing [post](http://viiktornikiforovs.tumblr.com/post/161858884130/okay-this-is-me-trying-not-to-care-too-much-about/) about Brighter which I absolutely loved reading! Thank you so much, you said so many lovely things! 
> 
> Link to my [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/) as well <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri tells Victor that he's planning on moving out for a few weeks. As predicted, Victor does not take the news particularly well.

Yuuri packs his suitcase while Victor is still out training that evening. They’ve been avoiding each other for most of the day, and Yuuri has been spending large amounts of time in the ballet studio instead to avoid any kind of awkward conversation. He doesn’t want anybody else to pick up on the tension between them; with the Grand Prix Final in full swing, Yuuri doesn’t want to worry any of them and distract them from their training. Of course, Yurio will end up finding out very soon since Yuuri is going to appear at his house in a number of hours, but Yuuri is putting off thinking about that for the time-being.

He hasn’t told Victor yet about temporarily moving to Yakov and Lilia’s. It’d felt wrong to do it at the rink and Yuuri had admittedly chickened out, deciding to instead wait until the two of them are alone.

He’d debated whether he should pack before or after they talk before eventually settling on before. Surely after they talk it’ll be better for him to just collect his things and go, rather than hang around for ages afterwards and thicken the tension even further. Yuuri has absolutely no idea how Victor is going to react to the news; he’s been annoyingly flippant during every near-argument they’ve had but surely he’ll have a more emotional reaction this time?

In a way, Yuuri _wants_ Victor to be upset. Victor’s lack of interest in showing any kind of real emotion has quite frankly been a little unnerving, and Yuuri doesn’t know if it’s because Victor is an expert in suppressing how he truly feels, or if he simply doesn’t care.

It’s probably, _hopefully_ the former but still, it’s difficult for Yuuri to convince himself that that’s true. He wants Victor to open up to him, wants to be there for his fiancé when he feels upset or angry or anxious, but Victor won’t even give him the chance.

Why is he still shutting Yuuri out like this?

By the time Yuuri has finished packing, it’s close to the time when Victor usually arrives home. Yuuri zips up his suitcase and tucks it away in the kitchen as to not immediately freak Victor out with the sight of it when he gets here.

He stares around the kitchen, stomach in knots, deliberating if it’s a good idea to eat something while he waits. It probably _isn’t_ since once he starts he won’t be able to stop, but he needs a way to take his mind off what he’s going to say to Victor when he gets here. Yuuri’s head is a _mess_.

The sound of the front door being opened shocks him out of his thoughts, a wave of nausea wracking his body. Well, there’s no more avoiding it now.

Yuuri steels himself, focusing on the fact that this is a step that they need to take in order to start fixing their relationship, and heads out of the kitchen.

Victor is hanging up his jacket, scanning the room nervously for Yuuri. When he sees him, his eyes flicker with what looks like panic for a brief second before his face settles into a small smile. He doesn’t say a word though, waiting for Yuuri to take the lead.

Yuuri can’t help returning the smile, albeit a little sadly. He still loves Victor with all his heart, and he hates that their situation has come to this. It’s still salvable though, and Yuuri will pour every ounce of his being into saving their relationship.

“Hi, Vitya,” he says, holding out his hand. “Come sit down with me, sweetheart. I need to talk to you.”

Victor looks like a hopeful little puppy. He takes a few steps over to Yuuri and grasps his hand tightly, allowing Yuuri to lead them over to the couch. Yuuri takes a deep breath once they’ve sat down, still keeping a tight hold on Victor’s hand to keep himself grounded. Victor remains silent, giving Yuuri the space he needs to prepare himself for what he’s about to say.

“So,” he starts, rubbing a thumb over Victor’s hand and staring at down at their laps. “We both know that things haven’t been… right between us lately. We’re under a lot of pressure with the Grand Prix, especially you with trying to juggle your comeback and coaching me at the same time. And I… I hate what that pressure is doing to us. We’re not being honest with each other, we’re hiding how we feel, and when one of us gets frustrated we take it out on the other person and it’s not fair.”

Victor’s voice is quiet. “But… I don’t get frustrated with you, Yuuri.”

It’s like a stab to Yuuri’s heart. He sighs heavily. “Okay, _I_ get frustrated. But it’s only because I feel like there’s so much you aren’t telling me.”

Victor doesn’t say anything, which essentially tells Yuuri that he’s right.

“Look, I understand that there must be reasons why you don’t talk to me when you get scared about something. But it still hurts. I know you, Victor, I can tell when there’s something bothering you and I just want to _help_ but you never let me. And then it all builds up in my head and that’s when I end up snapping at you, which I know if wrong of me and I’m sorry for doing it.”

“I…” God, Victor sounds so _small._ “I-it’s not your fault, you know.”

The tightness in Yuuri’s chest eases a fraction. Victor doesn’t seem to be acting as dismissive as he usually does which hopefully means that he’s willing to listen.

“I think we’re both to blame, to an extent,” Yuuri says. “The way we are now… it’s just not healthy. And after last night, I’ve been thinking that we need to do something about this before it ends up breaking us.”

Their eyes finally meet. Victor’s are bright and curious, darting between Yuuri’s as he waits for him to continue.

Yuuri squeezes Victor’s hand and takes in a big lungful of air, eyes falling back down to his lap. Here goes.

“I think it’d be a good idea for me to stay at Yakov and Lilia’s for a few weeks.”

Victor tugs his hand out of Yuuri’s grasp. Yuuri lets him go, eyes shooting up to see Victor’s reaction. He suddenly looks ill, skin much paler than it’d been a minute ago. He takes a shaking breath as his arms circle his middle.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Victor, please, let me explain,” Yuuri hurries to add, shuffling closer to Victor and trying not to feel hurt when Victor flinches away. “We do _not_ handle our bad feelings well. We don’t know how to communicate them properly, and it causes all this awful _tension_ between us. Until we learn how to really talk to each other, I think it’d help for us to have a bit of space.”

 _“No!”_ Victor exclaims, making Yuuri jump with the sudden volume of his voice. “ _I_ don’t think that’s going to help! How is running away from the problem going to help us communicate better?”

“I’m not running away from _anything_. Right now all we do is ignore the problem until we’re surrounded by unbearable tension. That’s only going to get worse unless we do something about it, otherwise we’ll end up arguing all the time and things could get very ugly and hurtful. I can’t stand the thought of us getting to that point, Victor, I don’t want us to resent each other.”

Victor scoffs, though it sounds out of disbelief rather than dismissiveness. “Wow. Thank you for assuming the worst for us, Yuuri. I didn’t realise you had so little faith in our relationship.”

A wave of irritation passes through Yuuri at that. Victor may not be the type to get loud and aggressive, but he certainly knows how to deliver scathing comments that always cut deep. “Well, _somebody_ has to think of what could end up happening! You just float through life ignoring our problems as if they don’t exist! I feel like I’m fighting this battle on my own, and I hate it!”

“What _battle?_ Yuuri, I’m sorry, but I think you’re overreacting about this. Of course we’re under pressure; it’s the middle of the Grand Prix. Everybody gets like this during competition season. Doesn’t mean you have to run away because of it!”

Yuuri presses his lips together, suppressing a huff. “Victor, this is about more than just skating and you know it. Don’t accuse _me_ of running away when you’re doing the exact same thing.”

Victor raises an eyebrow. “I disagree.”

Yuuri buries his face in his hands for a few seconds, groaning quietly to himself. “Victor, do you not realise we’re just proving my point right now? We’re not even close to being on the same page yet, and aggravating each other like this isn’t going to help us at all.”

Victor sighs. “Maybe so, but I still don’t see how separating us will help get us on the same page either.”

“We just need time apart for a little while to think. Especially you. I have no idea what’s going on in your head but you clearly have some insecurities that you either don’t want to deal with or don’t want me to know about. It’s not healthy for you to bury them like this.”

“You are in no position to lecture me over my own feelings, Yuuri. If you really don’t know what’s going on in my head then how are you so sure that I have all these ‘insecurities’?”

“You must think that I don’t know you at all, Victor. It’s in the way you act; just look at how you’ve thrown yourself into skating! It’s… it’s like you’re using it as a distraction. I’m not going to repeat last night’s argument but I wish you’d stop putting your body under so much strain.”

“I know my own limits, okay?” Victor’s voice is tight, defensive. “Stop using my training against me.”

Yuuri sighs, but lets it go. “Fine. Look, I know you might not agree with the idea of us having some space but do you at least understand why I think we should do it?”

“I…” Victor is quiet for a long moment, forehead creased as he thinks. Eventually he exhales, looking away. “I guess. But that doesn’t mean I want you to go.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

Victor swallows, and says nothing. Yuuri considers trying to touch him for a brief moment before remembering how Victor had flinched, and so he keeps his hands to himself.

Well. Yuuri supposes there’s no point in dragging this out any longer. They need to keep moving forward, and they won’t get anywhere sitting here bickering.

So with a heavy heart, Yuuri stands up.

Victor’s head shoots up, eyes widening as he reaches out and grabs Yuuri’s arm to stop him walking away. “Where are you going?!”

Yuuri looks down at him, brow furrowed in sympathy. “We’ve got to break the cycle at some point, Victor; it might as well be now.”

“What do you mean, _now?_ Can’t we… _blyad’_ , can’t we just work this out together? I… I can be better, I swear!”

 _Oh,_ that hurts. Yuuri doesn’t want Victor to feel as though he’s the only one responsible for what’s going on, because he _isn’t._

“Victor, please. You’re not the only one who needs time to think, okay? I… I haven’t been completely honest with you either and I’ve got some straightening out to do, too. Having a bit of distance will be good for both of us.”

Yuuri gently pulls his arm from Victor’s grasp and starts to walk away. Unfortunately his words, which he’d been hoping would calm Victor down, have the opposite effect and he gets up to chase after him.

“Yuuri, please,” Victor says desperately, grabbing hold of Yuuri’s hand and tugging at his arm to stop him from walking away. “Please, I love you, d-don’t leave me! Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it but _please,_ don’t leave me!”

A lump rises in Yuuri’s throat and he spins around, hot tears stinging his eyes. Victor looks distraught, clutching onto Yuuri and staring at him with wide, sad eyes that are glistening with tears of his own. Yuuri aches at the sight, and he cups Victor’s face to bring him closer.

The press of their lips is overwhelming, passionate and addictive in more ways than Yuuri can cope with. His tears break free, streaking down his cheeks in lines hot enough to burn and mixing in with the kiss. Victor urges him closer, a spot of wetness brushing against Yuuri’s cheek from his nose which makes Yuuri’s stomach dive when he realises that _Victor is crying now, too._

Their lips part and the kiss deepens, salty with their tears and loaded with a million emotions that neither of them are capable of expressing through words alone. Taut arms encircle Yuuri's waist and he melts into the embrace, stroking his fingers through Victor's silky hair and shuddering with longing. Eventually, with his nerve endings tingling and overstimulated, he forces himself to pull away.

“Victor,” he murmurs against Victor’s lips, breathless and trembling. “I could never leave you. I’m just… giving us both some space. I’ll come back, I promise.”

Victor’s breath puffs against Yuuri’s lips, and his eyes flutter closed as the gentle sensation of hot air passes over him. Victor’s voice is thick with tears, his Russian accent somehow stronger. “Then why does this feel like you’re ending us?”

“There isn’t an _end_ when it comes to us. I don’t want to break up, ever, that’s the reason why I’m doing this. I love you so much, Vitya, I can’t let us lose what we have.”

Victor’s hands are fisted in the back of Yuuri’s shirt as though he’s scared Yuuri is going to vanish into thin air. Yuuri reaches behind him to take hold of Victor’s wrists, pulling his arms away as he kisses Victor one last time.

“This will be good for us. It’ll help, I swear. Okay?” Yuuri mumbles.

Victor looks torn, tear tracks still shining on his face with his nose tinged pink and lips a little kiss-swollen. His eyes dart around for a few seconds as though he’s searching for an answer before he suddenly freezes. Yuuri frowns, wondering what could have caught Victor’s attention and looking over his own shoulder to identify the source.

_Oh._

His suitcase. It’s partly visible from within the open kitchen doorway.

He turns back to Victor, lip caught between his teeth. Victor hasn’t taken his eyes off the suitcase, expression unreadable and body perfectly still.

“You already packed?”

Yuuri’s heart stutters in his chest as he nods.

Victor looks stunned. His gaze finally falls away from the suitcase and he lets out an empty, unsettling laugh. “It doesn’t matter what I say or do, does it? You’re still going. You already made this decision without me.”

“N-no…” Yuuri reaches out and places a hand on Victor’s chest but Victor steps back, breaking the contact. “I just thought it’d make it easier on the both of us if I didn’t have to hang around packing for –”

“But you _still_ made this decision without me, Yuuri. _Blyad’_ , why did you even bother waiting for me to come home? You could’ve just ran away while I was at the rink, I’m sure that would have made things even ‘easier’ for you!”

Yuuri rubs a hand over his face, furious with himself that his plan has backfired. He honestly hadn’t thought about it that way. He’s just gotten so used to Victor acting disinterested and going along with whatever he says that Yuuri had barely considered the idea of Victor _properly_ fighting back and disagreeing with him.

“Victor, for the last time, I am not running away from you; I’m doing this because I want to fight for us!”

“You want to fight for us _by yourself_. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t even need my input to make decisions about our relationship.”

Yuuri huffs, a fire igniting within his stomach. “Well, you know what, if I feel that way it’s only because you’ve _made_ me feel that way. You’ve been ignoring our problems for weeks; even when I tried to talk to you about it you’d just shrug me off. So what else am I supposed to think?”

Victor is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know, Yuuri. I guess I have no idea what’s going on in _your_ head, either.”

Yuuri’s vision is blurry now, tears obscuring the lenses of his glasses. “Then that’s exactly why I need to do this. Please, Victor, please hear me. Don’t you miss being _us?”_

Victor’s expression is stony, a world away from the storm raging within his eyes. He doesn’t answer, instead turning his back on Yuuri and disappearing into the bedroom. The slam of the door steals Yuuri’s breath away.

With a heavy sigh, he drags his feet into the kitchen, picking up the damn suitcase that’d forced them further apart and going back out into the hallway. He stops and stares at the bedroom door for a long moment, heart crying out for Victor and battling with his head which tells him he needs to leave Victor alone.

So Yuuri turns in the opposite direction and shuffles to the front door. It isn’t until he turns the handle that he glances back over his shoulder, calling out in a weak voice, “I love you, Victor.”

He waits for several seconds, but doesn’t hear a response. He can’t say he’s surprised.

X

By the time Yuuri arrives at Yakov and Lilia’s, he is so mentally drained he feels as though he could fall asleep standing up. Yakov answers the door when he knocks, looking over Yuuri with trepidation as though he’s trying to assess what may have happened with Victor. Yuuri’s slumped shoulders and tear-stained cheeks probably provide enough of an answer.

Yakov steps aside to let Yuuri in, thankfully refraining from bombarding him with questions. Instead, he simply points out where each of the rooms are and tells Yuuri that the room he’ll be staying in is up the stairs and on the far right of the hallway.

“Yuratchka is in his room. It’s the one beside the bathroom,” is all Yakov says, probably assuming that Yuuri would be more comfortable talking with Yurio instead.

Yuuri nods, although he has no intention of going to see Yurio tonight. He just can’t face it, wanting nothing more than to hide himself under a blanket or ten and cry away his worries until he falls asleep.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Yuuri says again.

Yakov merely shakes his head. He looks softer without his hat on. Older. He seems to hesitate for a moment before asking, “How was Vitya when you left?”

Yuuri’s gaze drops the floor, shame burning his insides as he remembers how badly he’d handled leaving. “He was… upset. He wouldn’t speak to me.”

Yakov sighs to himself. “I think I’m going to go over there and keep him company for a while. Make yourself at home, okay?”

Yuuri nods again, feeling as though a small weight has been lifted off his shoulders knowing that Victor won’t have to be completely alone. He thanks Yakov again for letting him stay and then trudges up the stairs, picking up his suitcase to make sure he doesn’t leave any dirty marks on the plush, expensive looking carpet.

He passes what must be Yurio’s room, heavy metal music blasting from within it, and sneaks to his room as best as he can.

Once inside his new temporary home, Yuuri drops his barriers and a flood of tears begins to spurt from his eyes, ugly sobs bubbling out of him in a way that’s beyond his control. He dumps his suitcase on the floor, fishing out one of Victor’s comfortable shirts that he always sleeps in and hadn’t been able to resist packing, and sheds his clothes before putting the shirt on.

The scent of the shirt is maddening, hints of cologne and expensive peach body wash reminding him of Victor but not enough to actually replace him. The fabric is soft and soothing, but not warm enough to mimic the comforting press of Victor’s arms around him as they lull him to sleep.

It’s all too much and yet not enough, and it only makes Yuuri cry harder as he climbs into bed and covers himself with the crisp, cool blanket. A small positive is that the bed is only twin-sized, leaving no space to imagine where another person should be lying beside him.

And that’s how Yuuri would’ve spent the rest of his night, curled up into a miserable ball and hiding from the world, had it not been for his bedroom door being all but kicked in.

He startles, jumping a mile out of his skin as he scrambles out from the blanket and peeks up at the intruder, heart thumping like a jackhammer against his ribcage.

Yurio is stood in the doorway, looking like five feet and four inches of pure irritation with a cat in his arms and a deathly scowl on his face.

Yuuri hastily wipes at his cheeks, staying mostly silent apart from the small sobs that his body is still shaking with.

Yurio doesn’t speak as he marches over to the bed. Instead, he deposits his cat onto Yuuri’s lap and wriggles into bed beside him, ignoring the lack of space and accidentally prodding Yuuri a few times with his bony limbs as he gets comfortable.

Yuuri just stares at the cat, bewildered as to what’s going on. Eventually, he lets himself lie back too, his chest still heaving slightly as he tries to catch his breath from all that frantic sobbing. Yurio doesn’t say or do anything, just waits for Yuuri to collect himself, and the two of them occupy themselves for a few minutes by petting the cat. The little fluffball quickly starts to purr, which eases some of the tension within Yuuri’s body. Whilst he generally considers himself a dog person, he adores anything that’s cute and fluffy.

“What’s his name again?” Yuuri finally asks, voice hoarse from crying. He tries to think back to the many posts on Yurio’s Instagram all centred around his beloved pet. “Potya?”

“That’s his nickname.” Yurio reaches out to scratch behind the cat’s ears, and then with a completely straight face he says, “His full name is Puma Tiger Scorpion.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot up, suppressing a snort of amusement. “Oh. That’s… pretty.”

Yurio only hums. Another few minutes pass in companionable silence before Yurio apparently can’t hold it in any longer, bursting out, “So what the _fuck’s_ been going on with you two idiots?”

Yuuri’s lip quivers again, thinking back to the expression on Victor’s face when he’d realised Yuuri was going. Yuuri has never seen him look like that before, so hurt and lost and dejected, and he _hates_ himself for being the one responsible for it. He takes a few shaking breaths before filling Yurio in on what’s been happening behind closed doors lately; his concerns over Victor’s training, Victor’s refusal to show any kind of anxiety or negative emotion, Yuuri’s own fears over why exactly Victor doesn’t feel comfortable opening up to him, and how it’s causing his own anxiety to spike.

He carefully skims over a few details though, namely his over-eating. He doesn’t need Yurio judging him while he already feels so rotten.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about all this?!” Yurio asks incredulously when Yuuri has finished talking. “In fact, forget that, why didn’t you at least tell _me?”_

Yuuri sighs. He’s never been the type to want to burden other people with his own issues; he’s always preferred to suffer in silence instead. And whilst Yurio is the person he’s closest to in St. Petersburg after Victor, Yuuri still didn’t feel right unloading all of his anxieties onto him. He refuses to let himself forget that Yurio is only sixteen and already has enough on his plate with the Grand Prix and the whole nightmare with JJ. It wouldn’t be fair to saddle him with Yuuri’s problems as well.

He tries to explain this to Yurio. “I felt too bad; I didn’t want to burden you in any way.”

“You’re not a _burden_ to me, moron. We’re… fuck, I can’t believe you’re making me say this out loud,” Yurio mutters before huffing. “We’re _friends_. That’s what friends do, right, they bitch to each other about their problems. You’ve helped me with this JJ thing, now I’m gonna help you with your thing.”

Yuuri can’t help smiling. “Yeah? How?”

Yurio’s eyes flicker up to the wall behind Yuuri as he thinks. “I can… come up with a hundred insults about your idiot fiancé.”

Yuuri lets out a short laugh. “Thank you but no, I don’t think he deserves to be insulted right now.”

“Alright, well how about I kick his ass for being such a dense shithead?”

 _“No,”_ Yuuri says with another laugh. His chest is still aching with emotion after what happened with Victor but he’s feeling marginally lighter with someone here to talk to about it. “Do you have any advice that’s non-violent?”

Yurio thinks for a moment for grunting, “Okay, fine, I might not be the _best_ person to talk to about relationships. But I can listen, can’t I? You’ve been bottling this up for months, it’s probably good for you to get it all out.”

Yuuri nods. “I do feel a bit better, actually. Still kind of feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. But I’m a little better.”

Yurio bites his lip then, turning his attention back to Potya and fussing over him for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and small like a child’s. “You two are gonna be okay, though, right? I know you’re going through a shitty patch but… it’d suck if you broke up.”

Yuuri’s chest clenches, and he lets out a shaky exhale. “I… yes, I do think we’ll be okay. I’m frustrated with him and it breaks my heart that he won’t open up to me the way I have for him but… we love each other, and I know we’re strong enough to work through this mess.”

Yurio just nods, reaching out and rubbing Yuuri’s forearm in an awkward but well-meaning gesture.

But Yuuri is quickly becoming choked up again, tears welling in his eyes and heating his face when they trace the tear tracks left by the last stream. “Because I really do love him, more than anything, and I want us to get married and have babies and adopt more poodles and buy a house with a white picket fence, I want _all_ of that with him. It’s just… ugh. Being in a relationship is a _lot_ harder than I thought it’d be.”

Yurio huffs in agreement. “Well, if it helps, I think if anyone stands a chance of building a good relationship together, it’s you two.”

Yuuri wipes under his eyes, still sniffling but managing a small smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You just… you fit, you know? Likes pieces in a jigsaw or some shit. So don’t let either of your dumb insecurities ruin that. You can't let them win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry okay but y'all KNEW it was gonna be bad!
> 
> Russian translation:  
> Blyad' - 'fuck' (or so I read, please correct me if that's wrong!)
> 
> And here's a link to my [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)! Have a good evening <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri spends the entire day moping over the way he'd left things with Victor.

Yuuri wakes up the following morning feeling as though he’s been hit with a brick. He’d cried last night until his eyes were swollen and sore, with poor Yurio beside him offering awkward comfort and reluctant words of reassurance until he’d eventually drifted off. He’s not sure if Yurio stayed with him all night but Yuuri is alone when he wakes up, except for Potya (Yuuri doesn’t think he can face using the cat’s full name) who is curled up at the foot of the bed.

He lies still for a long while, staring up at the ceiling. After the emotional whirlwind of yesterday, Yuuri now finds himself feeling numb and detached with a heavy sort of tiredness residing in his bones. Brief memories of Victor’s beautiful face all miserable and tear-stained has Yuuri’s stomach twisting, nausea rising within him as a dull ache pounds away against his forehead.

It feels like the worst hangover he’s ever experienced.

He hasn’t checked his phone yet. He has no idea if Victor has tried to contact him or not and if Yuuri is perfectly honest, he doesn’t want to find out. He isn’t sure which option would be worse; receiving a hundred texts from Victor, or nothing at all.

It suddenly occurs to Yuuri whether or not he should tell the people they know about their break. Phichit will definitely need to be updated, and Yuuri will try and call him later if he feels up to it. Yuuri’s family? They all adore Victor; they accepted him into their family the minute he first arrived in Hasetsu. They’d all be heartbroken to find out what happened, especially since Yuuri hadn’t told them that Victor and he were having problems to begin with. Yuuri isn’t sure if he’ll be able to face their disappointment.

Although, if Yurio tells Yuuko about it… there’ll be no avoiding it then. Yuuri sighs. At least if that happens he won’t have to tell his family himself.

Today is a Sunday, which means there’s no formal practice at the rink. Yuuri supposes that’s a good thing; he feels so heavy and exhausted that he’s not sure he’d even be able to skate properly, and being able to stay here all day means Victor and he won’t be forced into facing each other so quickly.

But at the same time, skating is Yuuri’s main form of distraction. Without that, what’s he going to do to occupy himself? Eat? He’s not going to be able to get away with eating as much as he has been here, someone will notice. He could go out, of course, but his legs don’t seem to be cooperating.

Maybe it’s a good thing he won’t be able to eat so much. The Rostelecom Cup is this week, and Yuuri is starting to worry that he won’t be able to fit into his costumes.

Finally, his bladder wins the battle against the rest of his body and he forces himself up to stumble to the bathroom. He pointedly avoids looking in the mirror; he’d left his glasses in his bedroom anyway so at least he can’t see how much of a mess he is.

He can hear people pottering about downstairs when he leaves the bathroom, and he vaguely wonders what time it is. In all honesty, Yuuri wants nothing more than to crawl back into his sad little nest and stay there for the entire day but he doesn’t want to be rude to the people who have let him stay here. Maybe he can help with preparing breakfast as a way of saying thank you.

So Yuuri turns to the stairs, adjusting his clothes and trying to smooth down his hair. He patters down the steps on bare feet, the sound probably undetectable on the plush carpet. He can’t remember where Yakov had told him the kitchen was but it’s not too hard to find; Yuuri just has to follow the source of the loud voices he can hear.

Everyone falls silent when he enters the room. Yuuri’s gaze quickly falls to the floor, hands coming up to twist into the fabric of Victor’s shirt as he wills his cheeks to not flush red.

It’s Yurio’s voice which breaks the silence, saying, “Hey, welcome back to the land of the living, Katsudon.”

Yuuri manages a weak smile which probably comes out more like a grimace. He peeks up in the direction he heard Yurio’s voice and sees him stood behind the breakfast counter, deciding that’s a safe place to go and shuffling over to him. He can see Yakov and Lilia sitting at the table out of the corner of his eye, though he can’t bring himself to look at them properly just yet.

“Can I…” Yuuri says quietly, voice coming out hoarse and wobbly. “Can I help with breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Yurio repeats incredulously. He picks up a cucumber off the counter and waves it in front of Yuuri. “It’s one thirty in the afternoon. It’s lunchtime.”

Yuuri blinks at him for several seconds, eventually responding with a useless, “What?”

“You managed to sleep in even later than Yuratchka,” Yakov says from the table. “Quite impressive.”

“Oh…” Yuuri mumbles, staring down at the cucumber. “Well, can I help with lunch?”

Yurio looks him up and down and then pats his shoulder. “Nah, you’re good. Go sit down.”

Yuuri swallows thickly. If even Yurio is taking pity and going easy on him, then he really must look rough. He doesn’t try to put up a fight though, instead mooching over to the table and joining Yakov and Lilia. He suddenly feels extremely self-conscious being the only one still in pyjamas but he doubts anybody else particularly cares about what he’s wearing.

A minute or two of awkward silence passes. Yuuri stares down at the table, focusing on the quiet sound of Yurio chopping up various vegetables and avoiding Yakov and Lilia’s eyes. He can’t help but feel like they’re judging him.

“Did you sleep well?” Yakov finally asks, picking up his teacup and sipping.

Yuuri nods. “Yes. Thank you again for letting me stay, both of you. It means a lot.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Lilia says over the rim of her own teacup. Yuuri usually spends so little time around her that the sound of her voice is still a little intimidating.

They fall quiet again. Yuuri’s mind is whirring, lip caught between his teeth. He desperately wants to ask Yakov how Victor was when he went to see him last night, but is he prepared for the answer? Victor could have been mad, upset or even apathetic, and Yuuri isn’t sure which scenario hurts more. He hates himself for how he handled leaving, and he wouldn’t blame Victor if he is pissed at him.

It doesn’t take long for his curiosity to win the battle over his anxiety, and he peeks up at Yakov again. “H-how was he? Last night?”

Yakov and Lilia share an apprehensive look that makes Yuuri’s stomach churn.

“He just…” Yakov seems to search for the right words. “Needs some time to adjust to the situation.”

Yuuri’s heart sinks like a stone. Victor must definitely be mad at him.

“Have you heard from him yet, Katsudon?” Yurio calls over as he carelessly tosses utensils and ingredients around.

Yuuri shrugs weakly. “I haven’t checked my phone yet.”

Yurio just nods, thankfully not interrogating Yuuri any further.

After a quick lunch of sandwiches (apparently Sunday is the one day a week when Yurio is responsible for lunch and it’s usually less than inventive, according to Lilia), Yuuri excuses himself and heads back upstairs. He’s been putting off looking at his phone since last night. What if Victor has sent a hundred angry messages over the selfish way Yuuri had handled last night? What if there’s nothing from Victor at all?

Yuuri approaches his phone as though it’s a ticking bomb, hesitant and slow as he stares down at the blank screen. After a deep breath, he reaches out and taps the button with a shaking finger, lighting up the screen.

He flicks through the first notifications; just a few from Instagram and Twitter and a text from Takeshi about what looks like a recipe for something. He doesn’t even see Victor’s name until he reaches the end, heart skipping a beat as he opens it.

There’s only a single text that had been sent no longer than ten minutes or so after Yuuri had left last night, and tears gather in his eyes as he reads the words over and over.

                                                                                                                                  

 **_Victor:_ ** _I love you too_

X

Yuuri mopes on the couch for the entire afternoon. The pillow and blanket from his bedroom have travelled downstairs with him and he now lies in his own sad cocoon, head on the armrest as he listlessly watches Russian TV shows. He hasn’t even bothered to turn on the subtitles so he has no idea what’s going on but with his mind so consumed by a heavy, black cloud, he finds that he is unable to care.

Yurio, bless his heart, stays with Yuuri the entire time. He doesn’t say anything, just sits cross-legged on the other end of the couch and gives Yuuri the space he needs to pine. He’s made them both tea but Yuuri’s goes neglected on the coffee table; he feels too weak to even pull himself upright.

He dozes off a few times, drifting in and out of consciousness. It doesn’t make him feel any more rested though; he’s still plagued with the memories of Victor’s rosy, tear-stained face and the bedroom door when it had been slammed closed on him. It leaves an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he’s filled with snakes all squirming to break free.

At one point, he hears another person entering the living room, heavy shoes thudding on the polished, wooden floor. He keeps his eyes closed, though, pretending to still be asleep.

“Yuratchka.” It’s Yakov, speaking in a quiet voice as to not ‘wake up’ Yuuri. “I’m going to check on Vitya again. Do you want to come with me?”

“No,” Yurio replies. “I mean, not yet. Someone should probably stay here with Katsudon. I’ll take a cab and go see him later.”

“Okay.” There’s a brief sound of shuffling, perhaps Yakov putting on his coat. “This… I think this is good for you, Yuri. I’m glad you have another friend here now.”

Yurio doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. Yakov’s footsteps retreat and there’s the distant sound of the front door being opened and closed. Yuuri doesn’t move, continuing to listen to Yurio quietly slurp his tea until he falls back into another light, uneasy sleep.

The next time Yuuri awakens, he’s being shaken by another person. He inhales deeply, peeling open his eyes and trying to make out the blurry figure whose leaning over him. It takes a few seconds for the rest of his senses to kick in, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the warm, delicious smell of fresh pizza.

He barely registers Yurio’s loud voice as he talks away above him, only tuning in halfway through. “…Lilia will pop a blood vessel if she finds out but whatever. So wake up, moron!”

Yuuri hauls himself upright, wishing he hadn’t left his glasses upstairs. Yurio bustles around in front of him, opening the pizza box and putting it on the coffee table between them, pouring out two drinks and changing the channel on the TV. When he sits down, he grabs Yuuri’s blanket and pulls it so it covers both of their laps, and he shuffles close enough that Yuuri can feel the radiating warmth from his small body.

Yuuri copies Yurio when he picks up a slice of pizza, and he’s assaulted with feelings of guilt as he adjusts the blanket to hide his belly. He knows he shouldn’t be eating this but his self-control is at an all-time low and in all honesty, he’s feeling too miserable to care.

“So,” Yurio says after a few minutes of eating. “How do you feel now?”

Yuuri shrugs. The pizza is delicious but he’s finding it difficult to get down. “Like I handled last night completely wrong. I think I’ve made things worse with him now.”

“Hm.” Yurio doesn’t respond straight away, too busy taking another impressively large bite of his slice. “Tell me again why you wanted this break?”

Yuuri blinks at him. “Do you think I made a mistake leaving?”

“No. Space is probably a good thing for you while you’re both still whiny and emotional. I just don’t want _you_ to forget your reasons and go running back to him too early; otherwise, what would have been the point?”

Yuuri sighs and then nods. “That’s what I keep trying to tell myself. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about how he cried last night, and how he must have felt sleeping in our bed all by himself. I feel awful.”

Yurio picks at some melted cheese with his fingers, pulling a piece off and putting it in his mouth. “He brought it on himself by being an asshole and shutting you out.”

Yuuri’s chest tightens. “I know. But he’s not the only one who wasn’t honest. My… my anxiety has been sneaking back up on me lately and I haven’t told him about it. It’s just made me act so snappy with him, and things haven’t… been great in the bedroom either because of me.”

As predicted, Yurio’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “Could’ve gone my whole life without that mental image, Katsudon.”

Yuuri smiles weakly. “Sorry. I just don’t want him to believe that everything that’s happened is his fault, because it isn’t.”

Yurio just nods as he chews, and he opens his mouth to say something else when they’re suddenly interrupted by a sharp, piercing voice.

“Yuri Plisetsky!” Lilia is stood in the doorway, looking close to fainting at the sight of the greasy food in Yurio’s hand. “What is that in your mouth?!”

Yurio blinks up at her with wide eyes, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. He glances towards Yuuri and protests to Lilia, “What? He was sad, I had to do something!”

“I have not spent months organising the perfect costumes for you to burst out of them on the ice!” Lilia marches over to him and snatches away the pizza crust in his hand, holding it between her fingers and carrying it away at arm’s length.

Yurio watches her go with a scowl, waiting until she’s left again before leaning towards Yuuri and taking a swift bite of the half-finished slice in his hand. Yuuri smiles and hands the whole slice over.

“Here, you can finish mine.”

When the pizza is all gone, the two of them settle themselves more comfortably beneath the blanket and watch TV in companionable silence. Yurio pulls out his phone and begins to text, and Yuuri can’t help glancing over to see the name of the person he’s messaging.

“How is Otabek?” he asks with a small smile, nudging Yurio with his elbow.

“He’s good.” Yurio’s thumbs fly across the screen at record speed as he taps away. “I’m still pissed about the Skate Canada results though; he should’ve got gold.”

“Where did he place again?” Yuuri feels bad for not knowing, but he’s been a little distracted over the past couple of days to pay attention the second qualifying competition.

“He got silver,” Yurio says before scowling. “Of course JJ got gold. Fucker.”

Yuuri sighs. JJ is always difficult to predict in competitions, especially after last year’s Grand Prix. He either completely annihilates the other skaters, or chokes and struggles to medal at all.

But Yurio doesn’t seem to be in the mood to talk about JJ right now. Instead, he sends his text to Otabek and puts down his phone again, turning to Yuuri and asking, “So, um, will you be okay if I go and see Victor later?”

“Yeah, of course.” It’ll be good for Victor to spend time with the people he’s close to, though Yuuri can’t help feeling a little bit concerned over the idea of Yuri and Victor being alone together. The two of them haven’t exactly been getting on very well lately ever since Victor snapped at Yurio over his quad flip. So Yuuri hesitantly adds, “Just… be nice to him, okay? No insults. No ass-kicking.”

Yurio clicks his tongue. “You’re no fun, Katsudon.”

X

The loneliness begins to eat away at Yuuri shortly after Yurio leaves for Victor’s. It’s very difficult to distract himself from his own mind, and it doesn’t take long for the doubt, guilt and misery to fully kick in. He spends a long time crying by himself within his makeshift cocoon on the couch, hiding beneath the blanket as to not be overheard by Yakov or Lilia.

Eventually, he gives in and pulls out his phone. He’s been putting off talking to other people about his problems with Victor for a long time, and he decides that he’s reached his limit. Who would be the safest, most comforting and least judgemental person he could whine to?

It doesn’t take long for him to settle on Phichit. Through his tears, he sends Phichit a garbled, probably unintelligible message informing him of the recent events and then drops his phone back onto the couch next to him, consumed once more by a fresh flood of tears.

It takes approximately thirty seconds for Phichit to Facetime Yuuri. Yuuri props his phone against a book on the coffee table, too lazy to hold it up himself, and clicks accept.

Phichit is sitting in the dim light of his bedroom with a frown on his face. “Yuuri? I just read your message, are you okay?”

Yuuri answers with a loud sob, fisting his hand into his blanket. If it were anybody else he’d feel embarrassed about being seen this way, but Phichit has been putting up with this kind of stuff from him since they first became rink mates all those years ago.

“Oh, baby,” Phichit coos, face crumpled in sympathy. “It’s okay, let it all out.”

Yuuri spends a long time telling Phichit in detail what’s been going on between his ugly, hiccupping sobs. Phichit listens intently like the good friend he is, and Yuuri apologises approximately nine times for not talking to him about this sooner.

“Well, you’ve definitely always been the type to suffer in silence,” Phichit says with a weak smile.

“It’s because I’m an idiot,” Yuuri mumbles. His cries have gradually quietened down, leaving him with puffy eyes and a killer headache.

“I can fly out and stay with you for a little while if you want?”

Yuuri is shaking his head before Phichit has even finished asking. “I can’t ask you to do that, not in the middle of the Grand Prix. Besides, I’m leaving for the Rostelecom Cup this week.”

Phichit still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m just very aware that you don’t have many people in Russia for you to lean on. Have you spoken to your family? Maybe Mama Katsuki can fly over for a visit.”

“I… I haven’t even told them Victor and I are having problems. I just… they love him so much, they’ll be so disappointed in me for ruining it. Besides, I’m not completely alone, I have Yurio here.”

Phichit raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Seriously? The tiny little brat who calls you names?”

Yuuri smiles. “Yes, that one. He’s actually become a very good friend, in his own angry way. He’s surprisingly sweet.”

“We are talking about the same Yuri Plisetsky, right?”

“Yeah. I hardly believed it at first as well.”

Yuuri stays on the phone with Phichit for an hour and a half. In a way, it adds to his guilt for not being open with his friend sooner, but Phichit understands the way his mind works and doesn’t hold it against him in any way. It’s mostly just comforting to talk to a good friend, especially one who’s openly affectionate.

“I still feel bad for not coming to see you in person,” Phichit pouts before he hangs up.

Yuuri smiles. “We’ll see each other in a few weeks for NHK. I’ll be okay until then.”

Phichit still doesn’t look happy, but he lets it go. “Okay. And will you be alright on your own tonight?”

“Yurio will home from Victor’s soon so I won’t be alone for long. Thank you, though. For everything, Phichit.”

Phichit shoots him a soft smile and blows him a kiss. “Love you.”

Yuuri returns the smile, waving his goodbye at the screen. “Love you.”

X

Yurio doesn’t get back until very late. Yuuri hasn’t moved from his nest, hidden so well beneath his blankets that Yakov hadn’t even noticed him lying there when he’d walked past to turn off the light. So Yuuri, too lazy to turn it back on, has been lying in the pitch black for an almost laughably long amount of time as he waits for Yurio.

He perks up when he hears the front door open. He hauls himself up and peeks over the back of the couch, waiting until he sees the vague shape of Yurio walk past the doorway before calling out weakly, “How did it go?”

Yurio flips his shit at the sound of Yuuri’s voice, jumping several inches in the air and cursing loudly in Russian. He comes closer and flicks on the light, clutching a hand over his heart as he stares at Yuuri with wild, furious eyes.

“What the _fuck_ , Katsudon, are you trying to kill me?! Why are you creeping here in the dark?”

Yuuri shrugs, squinting against the sudden light. “I didn’t want to get up to turn the light on. Please, tell me what happened. Was he okay? Was he mad?”

Yurio sighs, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “He was a big baby. What did you expect?”

Yuuri deflates. “Was it bad?”

“For a while. Then he turned into a big _drunk_ baby and had to be dragged to bed.”

“You let him drink?” Yuuri says with wide eyes, voice coming out much more accusing than he intended.

Yurio’s jaw clenches, and he raises a sarcastic eyebrow. “Have you met Victor? He’s a stubborn, impulsive idiot. Once he gets an idea in his head it’s pretty fucking hard to stop him. And he’s bigger than me, which didn’t help.”

Yuuri sighs, leaning his cheek against the top of the couch cushion. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him like that. How drunk did he get? Was it safe to leave him alone?”

Yurio waves his hand. “He was fine, just kinda tipsy. I put him in the recovery position just in case.”

Yuuri nods, gaze falling to the floor. He must look extraordinarily pitiful because Yurio huffs and approaches him, tugging on his arm until he lifts his head back up. Then, Yurio leans down and wraps both arms around Yuuri’s shoulders, hugging him tightly.

It takes Yuuri several long seconds to adjust to what’s going on before a very familiar, very overwhelming scent suddenly catches his attention. Peaches and expensive Armani cologne, masked ever so slightly by the sharp scent of vodka and Yurio’s own unique smell, but still there all the same. An onslaught of emotions takes Yuuri’s breath away as he is reminded of everything that makes him feel whole. Victor. Love. Safety. _Home._

Yuuri buries his nose in the crook of Yurio’s neck and inhales deeply before he’s even aware of what he’s doing. He’s well aware he’s being weird, but that doesn’t make him any more inclined to stop.

Yurio stiffens. “Did you just… sniff me?”

“You’ve been hugging him, haven’t you?” Yuuri mumbles, inhaling once more. “You smell like him.”

Yurio is less than amused. He squirms away from Yuuri and looks down at him with undisguised contempt. “And that’s _exactly_ why I never hug people. C’mon, weirdo, pick up your sad blanket nest and come upstairs with me. Let’s watch a movie or something.”

Yuuri nods, feeling a rush of gratitude for his friend. He wishes he understood why he constantly chooses to close himself off instead of opening up to the people around him, because they are all wonderful in their own special and unique ways. Yuuri may not be a social butterfly but he treasures these few good friends he has.

As he collects his blankets, he looks over at Yurio with a smile and repeats what he’d said to Phichit earlier. “Love you.”

Yurio freezes from where he’s picking up Yuuri’s phone from the coffee table, looking at Yuuri with a horrified scowl. Then he huffs, turning away again and muttering, “Disgusting.”

Yuuri just smiles. He knows he can’t throw this pity party for himself for much longer; as much as he’d like to mope, he needs to start looking forward. With the Rostelecom Cup less than a week away, he needs to get his head into gear. Victor and he will need to work out their boundaries since they’re still coach and student, and Yuuri doesn’t want to jeopardise either of their performances this season by being uncooperative or awkward. It’s already going to be bad enough when Victor finally notices the extra weight that Yuuri will no longer be able to hide beneath baggy clothes, because Lord knows his costumes will leave little to the imagination. Yet another thing that’ll drive Victor away.

Yuuri is also carefully ignoring the fact that he’ll have to face Chris in Moscow this week too. How is he going to be able to shake the mental image of Victor and Chris together when the two of them are going to be there as a constant visual reminder?

He really isn’t sure. The only thing he knows for certain, he thinks to himself as he bundles up his blankets and follows Yurio up the stairs, is that it’s going to be a very long, very stressful week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Plisetsky is the greatest, pass it on
> 
> Sorry this chapter took a little longer! I had fun writing it though; Yuuri and Yuri's friendship is one of my favourite parts about this fic so it was nice to focus on that. 
> 
> My tumblr is [wing--it](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/), come say hi! <3
> 
> Next up, the Rostelecom Cup!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Rostelecom Cup, and tensions are running high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >> See end note for a trigger warning (the warning is also already listed in the tags) <<

Yuuri arrives at the rink the next morning with a headache and a heavy sense of shame. This is going to be his first time facing Victor since he left and with no contact with him apart from a single text, Yuuri has no idea what Victor is going to be like. He spots Victor straight away, sitting on one of the benches and writing on the notepad he uses when he's coaching. Since the two of them are still coach and student, it's important for them to have a mature talk and discuss how things are going to work for them now. It won't be pleasant, but it's necessary.

So Yuuri steels himself, tightens his grip on his bag strap and heads over to Victor.

Victor doesn’t look up or even acknowledge Yuuri’s presence, but his pen pauses over the paper for a brief moment. He quickly resumes writing though, so Yuuri sighs to himself and sits down on the bench beside him.

Neither of them speak as Yuuri takes his skates out of his bag and puts them on. The air between them is so thick with tension that Yuuri can hardly stand it, but what is he supposed to say? Victor has closed himself off so much that Yuuri can’t read him anymore, leaving him at a loss to what he should do.

When Yuuri finishes lacing up his last skate, he straightens up and glances sideways at Victor, fiddling with his nails.

He opens his mouth to speak, but surprisingly, Victor beats him.

“The jump combination in the second half of your Short Program still needs some work.” Victor’s eyes don’t even leave the notepad on his lap, tapping the end of his pen against the paper. “We should focus on that this morning. I also think it’d be a good idea to change the your final spin for a higher base value.”

Yuuri blinks at him for several seconds, mouth parted slightly. Really, this is how Victor wants to be? Yuuri had been hoping that his leaving would show Victor how damaging it can be to brush problems under the rug but it seems as though that hasn’t occurred to Victor at all.

“Okay,” Yuuri finally says uselessly. He scratches at a small patch of dry skin on the side of his finger, eyes raking over Victor’s tense form. “V-Victor, are you… okay?”

That seems to throw Victor for a short moment, his eyes darting sideways in Yuuri’s direction but not meeting his gaze. Victor quickly recovers though, still using that cold, emotionless tone of voice. “Yes. Fine. As for your Free Skate, I’d like for you to work on the transition between –”

Yuuri cuts him off. “Victor. Please, don’t shut me out like this. I know it’s a difficult situation but we’re still going to be spending most of our time together. Don’t you think we should… talk about what happened?”

Victor stares out across the rink, cerulean eyes flickering as he thinks. His gaze drops when he lets out a small sigh, putting the lid of his pen back on and saying flatly, “The Rostelecom Cup is in a few days. It’s your first qualifier and it’s important that we focus on that instead.”

Before giving Yuuri a chance to respond, Victor stands up and briskly walks away. Yuuri panics, stomach dropping at the sight of Victor leaving, and he calls after him, “More important than our relationship?!”

But Victor doesn’t stop. Yuuri sighs, looking away from Victor’s retreating figure and kicking at his shoes with the edge of his skate. Great. Victor has quite firmly set the tone for the rest of their practice session today and it’s frostier than the ice they skate on. Yuuri isn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he is still disappointed.

X

The frosty atmosphere doesn’t dissipate the next day, or the day after that either. Victor doesn’t say a word to Yuuri unless it’s something about his programs, staying in stern coach mode until the very end of the day when Yuuri leaves him alone at the rink and goes home with Yurio. At first, it’d upset Yuuri, but now he feels himself growing irritated by it. Even with the two of them separated this way, Victor still can’t be mature enough to have a proper conversation?

Before Yuuri knows it, the two of them are boarding the plane for Moscow along with Yurio, Yakov and Lilia. Victor hasn’t spoken to Yuuri at all today, or any of them really, but Yuuri has started to grow used to the silence over the past few days. He still ends up sitting beside Victor, sneaking periodic glances over at him as they listen to the flight attendant explain the usual safety procedures.

When the plane finally roars into life and begins its journey down the runway, Yuuri reaches sideways and threads his fingers through Victor’s. He’s not even aware that he’s doing it since this is just what they always do when every plane that they’re on takes off. It’s one of the small traditions that the two of them have, a quiet reassurance that they’re both safe, together and comfortable.

Yuuri immediately realises what he’s done but he makes no attempt to move away; Victor and he are still in a relationship after all, and Yuuri doesn’t want them to act as though they’ve broken up completely.

Victor tenses at the touch, hand going rigid in Yuuri’s.

“What are you doing?” Victor says quietly, voice terse.

Yuuri’s heart sinks and the small bubble of hope in his chest pops. “I’m holding your hand like we always do on flights, Victor. I… I know things are difficult for us right now but I don’t want this to feel like a… a break-up.”

Victor is still staring down at their joined hands, expression unreadable. He breaks the contact, pulling his hand away and turning to look out of the window instead. Tears gather in Yuuri’s eyes as he stares at the back of Victor’s hair, feeling as though he’s approximately four seconds away from breaking down and pleading, when a small, pale hand pokes through the gap between his and Victor’s seats.

Yuuri blinks down at the hand before looking up and seeing Yurio’s sympathetic face, leaning forward in the seat he is occupying behind Victor’s. He’s probably heard the whole interaction, and Yuuri gives him a pained but grateful smile as he takes Yurio’s offered hand. Yurio squeezes, and doesn’t let go until the plane levels out in the air.

Yuuri is thankful for the support, but nothing compares to the warm, familiar comfort of Victor’s touch.

X

The awkwardness that’d developed between Yuuri and Victor on the plane follows them all the way to the hotel they’re staying at in Moscow. Even Yakov and Lilia have picked up on it, the tension too palpable to ignore, and the group of them walk in silence over to the check-in desk.

Yuuri’s mind wanders as they wait in the queue. He feels like he needs to get Victor alone to try and reason with him but that’s going to be near impossible to do during a competition. They’re not even sharing a room; Victor had mentioned the day before that he’d booked his own room instead. Yuuri had been gutted. It’s not as if he’d been expecting the two of them to jump straight back into bed together but they could’ve at least shared a room with two beds, like they used to before their infamous kiss at the Cup of China last year.

Yuuri won’t be alone in his room though, Yurio had volunteered for them to share (without bothering to consult Yuuri beforehand) and seems to be quietly excited about them being roommates. He’s been spending a lot of time in Yuuri’s room at Yakov’s this week, bringing in his cat and laptop so they can watch movies or listen to his music collection together. Yurio’s music always gives him a killer headache but Yuuri appreciates the company very much.

_“Victor!”_

A loud, deep voice breaks Yuuri from his thoughts, and he snaps his head up to see Chris and his coach walking over to them from the elevator, with Chris wearing a handsome smile.

Yuuri glances up at Victor and freezes when Victor’s entire demeanour completely transforms. The small crease between his eyebrows is immediately lifted, expression becoming joyous and radiant as he beams over at his friend. His body perks up too, back and shoulders straightening as he abandons his luggage and dashes off towards Chris.

Yuuri watches with wide eyes as Victor launches himself into Chris’ arms, the two of them laughing as they hug and greet each other. Yuuri’s mind helpfully supplies him with the mental image of Victor and Chris embracing but wearing a lot less clothes and he suddenly feels a little sick.

“Gross,” Yurio mutters beside him. “Let’s just leave them to it.”

Yurio nudges Yuuri in the back to push him closer to the check-in desk, forcing Yuuri’s attention away from Victor and Chris. Yuuri thought he’d been prepared for the sight of the two of them together but witnessing such a public display of affection is doing nothing to ease his insecurities.

X

The Short Program doesn’t start until tomorrow, so the skaters have the freedom to do whatever they please on the first night of their arrival. None of them do anything too wild in order to ensure they stay in top form in preparation for the competition; they mostly just go out to dinner or do a bit of sight-seeing.

Once Yuuri and Yurio have unpacked, Yurio starts to complain about being hungry so Yuuri suggests they go out to eat. After a quick Google search Yurio finds them a decent looking restaurant just down the street from their hotel and they both grab their jackets and head out.

They pass Victor’s room as they walk down the hall, and Yuuri starts to drag his feet. He looks wistfully at the closed door, wondering what Victor’s plans are for the night and how he might be feeling now. Yuuri doesn’t want him to be alone, but would Victor even want to spend time with him right now? He’s acting so cold and distant; clearly Yuuri’s actions on Saturday night have hurt him very deeply.

Yurio glances back over his shoulder at Yuuri as he slows right down. He looks from the door to Yuuri’s wishful expression and huffs.

“Just invite him out with us,” Yurio says quietly. “What’s the big deal?”

Yuuri still hesitates. It hurts when Victor pushes him away, and he can’t bear the thought of Victor rejecting his offers and choosing to stay alone rather than spend time with him.

Yurio rolls his eyes and huffs again, making Yuuri’s decision for him. He marches the few steps over to Victor’s door and barges into the room without knocking first.

Victor is in there, sitting on his bed and leaning back against the headboard, but he’s not alone. Chris is there too, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed and saying something to Victor. The two of them both blink up in surprise at their sudden guests, and Yuuri’s heart breaks at the way Victor’s face drops at the sight of him.

Apparently just the sight of him makes his fiancé miserable now.

“Hey, moron,” Yurio says to Victor, undeterred by Chris’ presence. “We’re going out to eat, you coming?”

Victor glances over Yurio’s shoulder at Yuuri with wide uncertain eyes. Then he shoots Yurio a small, apologetic smile and says quietly, “Thank you, honey, but I think I’m okay here.”

 _Ouch._ It stings, that Victor is choosing Chris over Yuuri.

Yuuri just nods, shuffling a step backwards to make his leave.

Yurio isn’t as easily convinced. “Really? You don’t want to spend any time with your fiancé? You know he gets nervous before competitions, or don’t you care?”

Victor visibly swallows, and he pointedly avoids looking at Yuuri. “Yuuri is strong. He doesn’t need me to baby him.”

A lump is rising in Yuuri’s throat, and his eyes are quickly growing hot and itchy. He reaches out and tugs on the back of Yurio’s jacket, not wanting him to push Victor.

Yurio allows himself to be gently pulled back, but not before spitting something in aggressive Russian at Victor first. Chris’ eyes widen but Victor doesn’t react to the words, his only response being the sad slump of his shoulders.

Yurio turns and pushes past Yuuri, marching off down the hallway instead and heading for the elevator. Yuuri gives one last dejected look at Victor and Chris together and then heads out as well, closing the door behind him. He starts to follow Yurio, but he spins around in surprise at the sound of the door being opened again.

“Yuuri?”

It’s Chris, and he follows Yuuri out into the hallway before shutting Victor’s door behind him. Yuuri blinks up at him with wide eyes, wondering what Chris could want with him. He’s looking unnaturally serious and he hasn’t made a single sex joke yet, which is practically unheard of.

Chris shoots him a small, kind smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but Victor told me what’s been going on between you two lately. I know it’s complicated and there’s a lot you both need to talk about, but he mentioned that you got upset when you found out about him and me sleeping together a few years ago.”

Yuuri’s cheeks burn and he finds it difficult to meet Chris’ eyes. Chris brings up the topic so _flippantly_ , how does he have the confidence?

“I just wanted to reassure you that there have never been any romantic feelings between Victor and me,” Chris says. “And I imagine we’ll be spending a lot of time together while we’re here but there’s nothing… _shady_ going on. In all honesty, I think he just really needs a friend right now, and I want to be here for him.”

Yuuri nods. He does believe that neither Chris or Victor have romantic feelings for each other, but it’s still painful knowing that right now, Chris is more able to make Victor happy than Yuuri is.

“I understand,” he says, voice sounding small and pitiful. “I’m really glad he has you here; he needs someone he can talk to.”

Chris nods. “I know it’ll take some time for you two to straighten things out, but I just wanted to ease your mind about at least one of those things.”

“Thank you, Chris,” Yuuri says earnestly.

“It’s no problem.” Chris reaches behind him and turns the door handle, shooting him one last smile. “Good luck in the Short Program tomorrow, Katsuki. Don’t go easy on us, will you?”

Yuuri manages a weak laugh and shakes his head. “Of course not. Good luck yourself.”

Chris winks, and then heads back into Victor’s room and closes the door behind him. Yuuri really is glad that Victor has a much needed friend here but it still cuts like a knife to be quite literally shut out this way. He almost feels like he’s been replaced.

X

The deafening sound of crowds cheering is one that Yuuri has learned to tune out over the years. He pushes it to the back of his mind, brushing it off as white noise rather than hundreds of people all waiting to watch him and judge his programs. He’s anxious enough as it is without consciously thinking about his audience; it’s his first competition of the season and that always makes him jittery, eager to kick off his season on a positive.

Ideally, he needs to medal in Moscow. If he misses the podium here it’ll be much harder to secure a spot in the final, especially since the competition is so strong this year. Victor’s comeback has prompted many of the other skaters to up their games, all wanting the chance to compete against the Living Legend in the final.

The warm-up had gone relatively well. Yuuri doesn’t usually attempt many jumps when he’s warming up but the triple axel and triple flip he’d tried had been a success (apart from a slight over-rotation on the flip). Yuuri had felt the slightest bit more comfortable during the warm-up with his track jacket hiding his costume but now, as he waits for his turn to perform, he’s well aware that there is nowhere for his extra weight to hide now. His jade green, sequin adorned costume still fits fairly well but his stomach visibly stretches the material, and he also has a pretty prominent set of love handles. Victor hasn’t seen him in nothing but his costume yet; Yuuri had made a point of wanting to get dressed alone.

Yuuri’s gaze is pulled away from Leo de la Iglesia as he performs to an upbeat, jazzy sort of track by the sound of heavy skate guards pacing around behind him. He looks over his shoulder at Yurio who has already shed his jacket to reveal his cardinal red costume and is stomping around with a hair pin between his teeth, fiddling with his hair that’s been drawn up into a high bun. Loose strands of his fringe fall over his face, though they don’t completely mask the deep scowl he’s wearing. Lilia is usually the one responsible for Yurio’s hair but she’s currently busy giving interviews on his behalf.

“This fucking top knot,” Yurio grumbles around the pin, loudly enough for a couple of nearby people to shoot him stern looks. “It doesn’t stay up properly.”

He glances up at Yuuri and then his eyes flicker over to Victor, who is standing a short distance away. Victor perks up when Yurio looks at him, expression hopeful. If Yurio needs help with his hair then there’s really no better person to go to than Victor; he’s the one with long hair experience and he used to spend a lot of time styling his own hair when he was younger.

Yurio considers Victor for a few seconds before turning away from him, approaching Yuuri instead. “Hey, Katsudon, make yourself useful.”

Yuuri is disappointed. Things have been so awkward between Victor and Yurio over the past several weeks and this would’ve been a good opportunity for them to bond again. Plus, Victor looks as though he could use some friendly company instead of standing here looking pitifully lonely.

Yurio turns so that Yuuri can reach his hair, handing him the pin over his shoulder.

“I’ll try my best,” Yuuri says, scooping up the stray pieces of Yurio’s hair and gathering it all into a neater bun. He glances over at Victor to see him already watching them with his infamous sad puppy eyes. When he meets Yuuri’s gaze, he turns and walks away to Yakov instead. Yuuri turns his attention back to Yurio and lowers his voice. “You really should’ve gone to Victor though. He’s better at this than I am.”

Yurio doesn’t say anything, only replying with a grumpy ‘hm’.

The crowd erupts with cheers again as Leo’s performance ends. Yuuri had missed half of the routine but Leo is always a crowd favourite so he’s not surprised by the response.

Before Yuuri knows it, it’s his own turn to head out onto the ice. A wave of nausea rocks his body as he hears his name on the speakers, and he tightens his grip on his jacket. Victor approaches him, wearing a soft smile as he holds out his hands to take Yuuri’s skate guards and jacket.

“Good luck, Yuuri. Show everyone how talented and beautiful you are.”

Yuuri gulps. He removes his skate guards first and then slowly, reluctantly unzips his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and placing it into Victor’s waiting arms without meeting his eye. Feeling like a child about to be scolded, he wrings his hands before chancing a glance up at Victor.

Victor has noticed straight away, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows as his eyes rake over Yuuri’s body. He stares at Yuuri, eyes searching and concerned.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he sighs.

Yuuri doesn’t respond, swallowing his pride and heading out onto the ice instead. His weight gain is physical proof of how bad his anxiety has been lately, and he knows that Victor must be hurt that Yuuri hasn’t opened up to him about it.

Yuuri feels like a hypocrite. He’d berated Victor for closing himself off and burying his emotions but really, Yuuri has done the exact same thing. They both handle their anxieties in different ways; Yuuri surrounds himself with food and Victor trains until he nearly makes himself ill but the one thing they have in common in this case is that they are both useless at being honest with each other.

Yuuri feels his cheeks flush red as he takes his starting position, knowing that there are many people in the crowds who will pick up on the change in his figure. He’ll be lucky if he manages to get through his interviews later without receiving a single question about it.

His self-consciousness shadows him throughout his entire routine. All he is fully aware of is the fact that Victor is watching him with that same hurt expression, wondering why Yuuri kept his anxiety so hidden all this time. Yuuri glides over the ice on autopilot, landing all of his jumps and executing every spin with textbook perfection but already knowing that he’s going to lose points for lack of emotional depth. His mind is too pre-occupied, swirling with thoughts of Victor and just how badly Yuuri has let him down.

X

Yuuri places fourth in the Short Program. It’s not the end of the world but it’s still not great, and he’s going to have to get his act together if he wants to bring it back in the Free Skate and make the podium.

Yuuri chooses to hide himself in his hotel room for the remainder of the night. Yurio goes out to dinner with Yakov and Lilia so at least Yuuri is able to be miserable in peace.

Around eight o’clock, Yuuri’s appetite begins to overwhelm him and he decides it’s probably time for dinner. His hunger makes him feel bitter; that’s one of the reasons why he’s in this position to begin with, but Yuuri knows it’s not a good idea to be skipping meals before the Free Skate.

Not in the mood for social interaction, Yuuri decides to walk down to the small store on the corner of the street and pick up something cold for dinner that he can eat in his room. He manages to avoid bumping into anybody he knows on the way down which is a small relief, but the relief is short-lived when he passes the hotel bar and catches sight of two familiar figures.

Victor and Chris are stood at the bar, chatting with each other and each holding wine glasses. Yuuri can tell that Victor has already had a few drinks from the way he’s swaying slightly, cheeks a little pink as he throws his head back and laughs at something Chris says. The sound of Victor’s pretty, musical laugh carries through the lobby and Yuuri’s chest aches to be over there. _He_ should be the one making Victor laugh like that.

Then Chris reaches over and squeezes Victor’s ass, and Yuuri’s mind goes blank. Oh, it hurts. It’s painful to watch. Yuuri can’t tear his eyes away, hot tears stinging and chest shuddering with the beginnings of a sob.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen Chris do before, hell, Yuuri has been on the receiving end of that exact grope many times before. But it’s still the _last_ thing he needed to see while he’s feeling so vulnerable.

Victor seems unaffected by Chris’ hand, pushing him off and taking another large gulp of his wine. Chris says something else that has Victor laughing again, and Yuuri decides he can’t watch anymore.

He stumbles to the store in a daze, wandering down the aisles and picking up various packages and boxes without even paying attention to what they are. He spends a shocking amount of money on the food, earning a vaguely judgemental look from the cashier in return, and then returns to his hotel room, pointedly avoiding looking into the hotel bar on his way past this time.

Yuuri doesn’t even make it to the bed when he arrives at his room. He kicks the door closed behind him and collapses down on the floor, tipping the contents of his shopping bag out and grabbing the first package he can reach. He devours the food in a matter of minutes, not even vaguely satisfied as he reaches for the next packet.

He doesn’t stop, the mental image of Chris’ hand on Victor spurring him on as he steadily works his way through the bag.

All he can think about is how much of a lousy fiancé he is. Victor is no angel in their situation but at least he’s not a hypocrite like Yuuri is. Victor didn’t pack up his things and decide to leave the home they share without consulting Yuuri first.

Yuuri’s stomach is starting to feel extremely bloated and achy, though he doesn’t stop forcing the food down his throat. Very rarely he gets to a point where he is unable to stop like this. It’s only happened a few times in his life, the last time being the Japanese Nationals after the Nishigoris' small car accident. Yuuri remembers how badly he’d skated the next day after that and knows that he’s probably ruining his chances of medalling tomorrow but that doesn't help him stop.

Tears are streaking down his cheeks though he’s barely aware of them. The pile of wrappers beside him steadily grows and grows in size. He isn’t sure how much time passes but the room is in near darkness, the only source of light being the small lamp he’d turned on on in his way in.

Then the door handle clicks. Yuuri ignores it, not even looking up when the door is opened and someone enters, ripping open another wrapper with shaking fingers and pushing the food into his mouth.

“Whoa.” It’s Yurio, and he sounds taken aback but mildly amused. “You really are a pig.”

Yuuri chokes out a small sob, beyond ashamed to be seen in this state.

Yurio’s tone immediately changes, voice suddenly concerned. “Katsudon? Hey, slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“Good,” Yuuri mumbles, a few crumbs spraying from his mouth.

 _“What?”_ Yurio hurries over to him and falls to his knees beside him, trying to meet Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri refuses. “No, _not_ good. What the hell are you doing?”

He snatches the food out of Yuuri’s hand and the reality of what Yuuri is doing suddenly hits him. A loud sob bubbles out of him and then he really starts to cry, doubling over and clutching his aching stomach. His cheeks are burning with shame and he squeezes his eyes closed, wanting nothing more than to just disappear.

Yurio is flustered, reaching out and rubbing a hand over Yuuri’s back far too roughly to be soothing. Yuuri is quickly feeling very sick, and his breathing speeds up as he starts to glance around for something to vomit into.

Yurio moves faster, leaning over and grabbing the bin which he then shoves under Yuuri’s chin.

Yuuri feels completely at rock bottom as he empties the contents of his stomach into the cheap hotel room bin. When he’s finished, he collapses against the wall, too weak to hold himself upright anymore. His forehead is wet with sweat and he’s trembling like crazy, wrapping both arms around his middle to try and calm the painful ache in his stomach.

Yurio gets up, moving the bin into the bathroom before returning and settling down beside Yuuri. He wraps a shy arm around him and squeezes, letting out a quiet sigh. “What the hell, Yuuri?”

The sound of his real name coming from Yurio is very sobering. He feels guilty for making Yurio nervous and he hadn’t intended for him to see this but Yuuri hadn’t been in any state to control himself.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammers, voice broken and wobbly.

Yurio rests their temples together, not pushing Yuuri to talk anymore while he’s still calming down. They sit there on the floor for several long minutes, the only sound in the room being Yuuri’s soft sobs.

Eventually, Yuuri breaks the tension with a few short words, tightening his grip around his middle and whispering, “Please don’t tell Victor.”

Yurio sighs, but doesn’t protest.

X

Yuuri wins bronze the next day after the Free Skate, clawing his way onto the podium after beating Leo by a hair’s width. He’d been sluggish and tired during his skate, body still aching after the stress he’d put it under the night before, though he’d received extra points for an ‘emotional performance’. If only the emotions he’d been portraying hadn’t been quite so crushingly real.

Yurio wins silver and Chris looks thrilled with his gold, standing in the middle of the podium and smiling away at the crowds. Yuuri glances at Yurio and feels another rush of guilt; Yurio had missed a big jump combination during his skate which had made him slip down to second place, and Yuuri can’t help but blame himself. Yurio had been up half the night keeping him company and Yuuri _knows_ that his little incident had freaked Yurio out. It’d distracted him during his skate, and now he’s lost out on the gold because of it.

It seems as though Yuuri is a sinking ship who can’t help dragging other people down with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >> Trigger warning: binge-eating. <<
> 
> \--
> 
> S O R R Y, I know it's been 84 years since I updated. I just sort of... lost the ability to write for a few weeks? Every time I tried my brain just went nope, it was super frustrating
> 
> But! We're back and I hope you enjoyed this extra angsty chapter - after a month's wait I had to make up for it, right??
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr!](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a forceful nudge from Yurio, Yuuri and Victor finally have an honest discussion about their relationship.

It’s been a few days since everyone returned from the Rostelecom Cup, and tensions are running high. The season is in full swing which means the Trophee de France is already just around the corner, and Victor is gearing up to compete in his second qualifier this upcoming weekend.

Yuuri and Victor have barely spoken since they got back to St. Petersburg. Victor had tried to bring up Yuuri’s weight and diet when they’d returned to the rink but Yuuri had stopped him speaking, already embarrassed enough after what had happened. Victor has no idea about the binge-eating and Yuuri would very much like to keep it that way, not wanting to burden anyone with his anxiety.

Yakov has joined them at the lunch table today for the sole purpose of talking to Victor about his routines. Everybody else is quiet as they let Yakov speak, and Yuuri busies himself by picking at the food on his tray. Every mouthful feels like a chore but he powers through; he’s trying not to let his awful eating habits affect his skating any more than they already have. He still has a chance of making it to the Grand Prix Final and he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.

He sneaks glances up at Victor every few minutes. Victor is sitting diagonally across from him so Yuuri has a perfect view, not that Victor has noticed with his eyes trained seriously on Yakov. Yuuri has been subtly monitoring Victor’s own eating this lunchtime as well, and he’s growing more and more stressed by the minute.

Because Victor _isn’t eating._ Every so often he’ll push his food with his fork but he never actually lifts any of it to his mouth. Yuuri bites his lip, not wanting to be rude and interrupt Yakov, trying to decide what to do. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed that Victor isn’t eating? Surely Yakov will?

Victor has been looking so pale lately, so overworked. It’s stressing Yuuri out to no end that Victor isn’t taking care of himself properly, even so more that he has no idea why exactly Victor is doing this to himself. Yuuri’s eyes keep darting to the clock as well, watching the minutes of their lunch break tick by as Yakov continues to talk. What’s going to happen if they reach the end of their break and Victor still hasn’t eaten? What if he gets faint on the ice and injures himself?

By the time another five minutes has passed, Yuuri decides he can’t take it anymore. He slaps a hand down on the table top, creating a dull thud, and bursts out, _“Victor, please eat something.”_

Yakov stops speaking and Victor, along with everyone else at the table, shoots Yuuri a curious look. Victor’s eyes are wide, like he’s surprised someone has even noticed, and he stares at Yuuri for several seconds before obediently picking up a forkful and putting it into his mouth.

Yuuri breathes a small sigh of relief, looking away and waiting for everyone to take their eyes off him. He hates the attention but at least Victor is eating now, which in Yuuri’s opinion, is all that really matters.

When lunchtime begins to draw to a close, Yakov gets up and barks at them all not to be late back. He heads back to the rink, closely followed by Mila who starts chattering away to him about altering her costumes. Georgi gets up too, already finished eating and wanting to get back to his own training.

Yuuri, Victor and Yurio are the only ones left at the table, and the tension is palpable. Yuuri keeps his gaze trained downwards. He refuses to be the one to speak, at a loss for what to say, but he has a sneaking feeling he won’t need to be the one to break the silence with the certain angry blond who’s still sitting here.

It takes approximately twenty-eight seconds for Yurio to lose his patience.

“Okay, that’s _it,”_ he barks, smacking the table and making both Yuuri and Victor snap their heads up at him. “Why do I feel like the only one with any semblance of common sense at this table?! Yuuri, listen to me. I get that you’re having all these _issues_ but you barely made the podium at Rostelecom because of it, and that isn’t good enough. Stop letting your dumb relationship ruin your dumb season!”

Yuuri blinks at him, half embarrassed to be scolded by a sixteen year old and half resigned to the fact that Yurio is right.

Yurio turns to Victor, pointing a finger at him. “And _you,_ I don’t even know where to begin. How about you stop being such a whiny baby, put aside your own problems and support your fiancé for a change. Do you have any idea what he’s been dealing with lately? No, because you haven’t tried to find out. Did you know he binge ate until he was sick the night before his free skate, and that’s why he barely scraped bronze, huh?”

Yuuri’s entire face pales, and he stares up at Yurio with wide, disbelieving eyes. Had he not specifically asked Yurio not to tell Victor about that night in Moscow? He never wanted Victor to find out the extent of how Yuuri’s anxiety has been affecting him this season, mortified that he’s allowed himself to lose control like this, but there’s no hiding it now.

 _“What?”_ Victor’s voice is shocked, hurt and urgent.

Yuuri opens his mouth to defend himself but Yurio is already leaving, collecting his tray and saying, “Sorry, Katsudon, I know you didn’t want me to say anything. But this is ridiculous, and if neither of you were going to make the first move then you obviously needed someone else to do it for you.”

At that, he marches off. Yuuri watches him leaves with a stunned expression before glancing up at Victor, wide-eyed and nervous.

No, he can’t do this now. He’s mortified to have his binge-eating be brought into the open so suddenly and he doesn’t feel at all prepared for how Victor is going to react.

So Yuuri gets up, abandoning his food and all but running away.

He hears a chair scrape and hurried footsteps behind him, and Victor grabs his arm before he makes it out of the cafeteria.

“Yuuri, _please.”_

Victor’s tone is hurt and confused, but firm. Yuuri takes a long, shaking breath before turning to face Victor, movements slow and reluctant.

He’s only seen Victor look this hurt once before; the night Yuuri told him he was leaving. It breaks Yuuri’s heart to see his fiancé looking so defeated and he swallows heavily around the painful lump in his throat.

Victor sighs, loosening his grip on Yuuri’s arm but not breaking the contact completely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuuri’s gaze falls to the floor. He mumbles, “I didn’t think you’d… care.”

Victor is silent for several, agonising seconds. “How could you think that?”

“Because that’s exactly how you’ve been since the day I moved out. You don’t care. You’ve gone out of your way to push me away, and you’ve made no attempts to even talk to me lately. What else am I supposed to think?”

Victor’s brow creases deeply, and his eyes well up. Yuuri suddenly forgets they’re in a public space, feeling tears build up in his own eyes as well.

“Of course I’ve been avoiding you, Yuuri. You ended our relationship.”

Yuuri’s mouth falls open. _“What?_ No, I haven’t!”

“Yes, you have. You packed up your things and walked out on me. You… you left me.”

“I…” Yuuri is overwhelmed, struggling to express himself in words. “Yes, but I didn’t break up with you! When did I say that I was ending our relationship?!”

“You didn’t have to say it. I’m not stupid, Yuuri, and I’m not naïve either. Believe me; I know what’s going to happen next.”

“Victor…”

Yuuri feels like the ground has been swept out from underneath him. All these weeks, he’d thought Victor was being so cold and distant simply because he’d stopped caring. He had no idea that Victor had been doing it to protect his own heart, convinced that Yuuri had already broken up with him.

“Victor, I don’t want to break up with you. I’m _not_ going to break up with you.”

Victor’s face clears ever so slightly, his eyes darting between Yuuri’s as though he’s searching for a reason not to believe him. “You’re not?”

Yuuri lets out a weak sob. “No, of course not. I’d never do that, I want us to be together!”

A few tears finally leak from Victor’s eyes too, and his lip trembles. “I-I’m sorry, I thought…”

“No,” Yuuri cuts him off, reaching out to touch Victor’s arm. “I should be the one who’s sorry, I… I should’ve been clearer. I had no idea you felt that way.”

Victor gives him a small, pained smile, wiping away the shining tears on his cheeks. “I had no idea you felt that way, either.”

Yuuri almost wants to laugh at how useless they both are at relationships, saying weakly, “Our miscommunication issues came back to bite us again, didn’t they?”

Victor huffs a small laugh, nodding. “Yuuri… what can I do to fix this? I never want you to feel like you have to binge eat again. Ever.”

It’s so relieving to hear Victor be open, for him to finally show interest in fixing their problems. It makes Yuuri feel a little weak at the knees.

“Just… be there for me. Don’t close yourself off. I… I understand that there may be things, insecurities, that you don’t feel comfortable talking about yet and I’m okay with that. For now… just stay close to me. Be supportive. And I promise I’ll do the same for you.”

Victor exhales, the tension leaving his shoulders as a tiny, hesitant smile forms on his face. He nods, and gently responds, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

X

Victor and Yakov are due to be leaving for the Trophee de France the next day. Their flight leaves at the ass-crack of dawn so Yuuri doesn’t expect to see Victor again until after the competition, which is why he’s very taken aback to find himself being gently shaken awake in the early hours of the morning.

He blinks wildly, trying to work out what’s going on in the darkness of the room. “Wha…?”

“It’s me, sorry for waking you so early.” It’s Victor’s voice, barely a whisper, and he places a soft hand on Yuuri’s arm. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Yuuri still can’t see him without his glasses on, only able to make out the vague shape of a person perching on the bed beside him, but he still beams nonetheless.

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I’m glad you did. Good luck, I’ll be watching you on TV.”

“Thank you,” Victor murmurs, leaning down to hug Yuuri. Yuuri wraps both arms around his shoulders and holds him close, basking in Victor’s nearness and treasuring every second of it.

“How do you feel?” Yuuri asks as they pull away.

“Fine,” Victor says, voice far too chirpy.

Yuuri doesn’t say anything. After their conversation yesterday, he’s hopeful that Victor will start to open up a little more, and that’s exactly what he wants to give Victor the chance to do now.

Victor seems to understand this too, because he sighs minutely. “I’m… a little nervous.”

Yuuri nods encouragingly, heart already racing at Victor’s progress. “Why?”

“The competition is very strong this time. I’ve… been watching JJ and Otabek this season. They’re good, very good. I’m… concerned they may out-perform me.”

“Victor,” Yuuri says gently, rubbing Victor’s forearm. “Even if they do, it’s not the end of the world. You do not have to get gold in every competition you compete in. I’m sure you’ll skate beautifully as always but please don’t feel like you can only be happy as long as you win gold. We’ll all be proud of you no matter what.”

Victor nods. Yuuri isn’t sure Victor is completely convinced but it’s a step in the right direction that he’s at least trying to listen to Yuuri’s words this time. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri leans up to pull him into another hug, mumbling, “Have a safe flight, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Yuuri lets down and settles back down against the pillows, reaching out to give Victor’s hand a final squeeze. “You’ll be wonderful. You always are.”

X

Yuuri watches the Trophee de France on the TV in Yakov’s living room with Yurio for company. Yuuri is quietly nervous for Victor’s performance but Yurio hasn’t noticed, not with the way he’s been jabbering on excitedly about Otabek’s performance. Victor is in first place going into the Free Skate, closely followed by Otabek and then JJ in third place.

Yuuri feels awkward watching JJ skate, knowing how uncomfortable Yurio is at any sort of mention of him. They watch his routine in silence, only making a sound when JJ misses a jump and Yurio yells a triumphant ‘HA!’ at the screen.

Otabek skates next, and Yuuri watches him with an open mouth. Yurio hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Otabek was putting everything into this season; he’s _incredible_. He doesn’t have the same flexibility as most of the other skaters but his skating is so powerful, showing absolutely no hesitance in any of his spins or jumps. Yuuri is not surprised that Yurio is so taken by the Kazakh.

Yurio is bouncing excitedly as Otabek finishes his routine and skates off the ice, saying, “If he doesn’t win I’m gonna fly to France and kick every single judge in the fucking junk.”

Then he pulls out his phone and begins to send Otabek around twenty excitable texts, thumbs flying across the screen as he smiles to himself.

“You know he won’t be able to look at his phone for ages, right?” Yuuri says, vaguely amused to see Yurio like this.

“So?” is all Yurio says.

He’s still texting by the time Victor takes to the ice, and Yuuri has to snatch the phone from him to force him to watch.

Victor’s routine is executed perfectly. He doesn’t miss a single jump and his spins are immaculate; he’s such a beauty to watch and Yuuri’s eyes fill with tears before the routine’s even over.

But even Yuuri can admit that Victor’s routine lacked the same… excitement as Otabek’s. Yuuri wasn’t on the edge of his seat in the same way, and he worries slightly that that’ll hurt Victor’s results. He is able to land more quads than Otabek can, plus he’s more flexible, but how will that fare against Otabek’s interesting, dynamic performance?

“Okay, who are you putting your money on?” Yurio asks tactlessly as Victor enters his final pose and waves to the audience.

Yuuri shrugs weakly. He doesn’t respond to Yurio, just begins to bite his fingernails as he anxiously awaits the results.

X

 

FOURTH EVENT: TROPHÉE DE FRANCE

MEN, FINAL RESULT

_Otabek ALTIN                    -         303.12_

_Victor NIKIFOROV              -         301.87_

_Jean-Jacques LEROY          -         293.34_

_Emil NEKOLA                     -         289.94_

_Michele CRISPINO              -         284.65_

_Guang-Hong JI                  -         279.17_

X

Yuuri doesn’t see or speak to Victor until after he returns from France, the morning of practice. Victor is already there when Yuuri arrives, dressed and ready in his training clothes and skates but still sitting on the bench beside the ice as he stares into space. His expression is unreadable.

Yuuri approaches him with caution, saying nothing as he perches next to him.

Victor is quiet for a long moment, which is why Yuuri is surprised when Victor suddenly says in a flat tone of voice, “I’m really embarrassed.”

“Victor,” Yuuri says. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I came in second. I lost to a skater nine years younger than me who has only made it to the final once before. I have a lot to be embarrassed about.”

“Stop it,” Yuuri says firmly, finally turning towards Victor. He hates hearing his fiancé be so self-deprecating, and he’ll do everything in his power to make Victor stop speaking like that. “You skated so beautifully, it brought tears to my eyes. You got an incredible score, and you made it to the final. I’m proud of you, Vitya.”

Victor sighs before peeking sideways at Yuuri. “You are?”

 _“Yes._ I am so proud of you, and I love you so much.”

After a second of hesitation, Yuuri leans in closer and cups Victor’s face. Victor shivers under the touch, eyes darting down to Yuuri’s lips as the distance between them grows smaller. Yuuri captures Victor’s lips and kisses him with delicate passion, pouring every ounce of his love and adoration into the action. The press of their lips is addicting; it’s been so long since they’ve kissed and Yuuri has missed the closeness desperately.

They both pull away with matching dazed expressions, and Yuuri releases a long, trembling breath. Victor’s eyes gently flutter closed again as Yuuri’s breath cascades over his skin, and he smiles so sweetly Yuuri thinks he could cry at the sight.

“What was that for?” Victor whispers.

Yuuri smiles too. “Do I need a reason to kiss my fiancé?”

Victor’s cheeks tinge pink, a rare and magnificent sight, and he looks down at his lap shyly. “Thank you.”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything in response, just holds Victor’s hand and doesn’t let go. He’s hopeful that the affection will help Victor realise that it’s okay for him to open up about why exactly he’s embarrassed.

It doesn’t take as long as Yuuri thought it would. Victor gives a quick glance around the rink as though he’s checking for eavesdroppers, and then he begins to play with Yuuri’s fingers as he admits, “You were wrong when you said that I use skating as a distraction, by the way. It’s not a distraction. It’s the problem.”

“Why is it the problem?”

“Because,” Victor thinks for a moment, eyes darting. “That’s been my life. It’s what I do. I skate; that’s what people want me to do, that’s what they _expect_ me to do. I’m interesting to them as long as I’m skating. If I stop… what’s left? There’ll be nothing for anyone to be interested in after I retire.”

Yuuri’s heart breaks. “Victor. If you really think that skating is the only thing that defines you then I’m sorry but you’re wrong. You are a living, breathing person, and there are so many things about you that make you interesting other than how many gold medals you’ve won.”

Victor sighs, and Yuuri knows he doesn’t believe him.

“What?” Yuuri gently urges, stroking the back of Victor’s hand with his thumb. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’ve put _everything_ into this season,” Victor says, in a tone so sad it makes Yuuri’s chest ache. “But I still wasn’t good enough this week. It… it was the first time I truly felt old during a competition.”

Yuuri doesn’t respond, only squeezes Victor’s hand tighter and lets him talk.

Victor takes a deep breath, and turns more fully towards Yuuri. “I’m not going to win this season, Yuuri. Yura and Otabek and JJ are going to be difficult enough to compete against, and I definitely don’t stand a chance against you. You’re so strong, and I can’t wait to see you win that gold medal.”

Yuuri’s chest begins to tighten, unsure of where Victor is going with this. “Victor… what are you saying?”

“This is my last season. I’ll skate until the final but then I think I’m done. I’m bored with letting everyone use my skating to define me.”

Yuuri smiles. “Good. I’m glad.”

Victor’s eyes start to sparkle as he looks out onto the ice, lips tilting up at the corners. “I just want to go out with a bang first.”

Yuuri’s face immediately drops, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. “Wh-what does that mean?”

“It means I’m going to dedicate the rest of my training to stepping up my program. If I can’t win, then I want my last Final to be spectacular. I want to be remembered for something other than being surpassed by all these stronger, younger skaters.”

“Victor…” Yuuri isn’t sure how he feels about this. “God, just… please be careful.”

Victor turns to Yuuri again, a placid expression settling over his features as he says, “Careful is boring, Yuuri. I didn’t get to where I am now by being careful, did I?”

Then he smiles, giving Yuuri’s hand one final squeeze before letting go and standing up. Yuuri watches helplessly as Victor takes to the ice, completely thrown off by Victor’s words and wondering what the hell he means by ‘going out with a bang’.

Yuuri sighs. Whilst they’re finally beginning to move in the right direction, they are still far from their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... hi lmao
> 
> Okay so I had to re-read the last three chapters just to remember what the heck this story is actually about because it's literally been 84 years this time since I uploaded. I can explain! Basically I moved to a new town a few months ago and got a new house and a new job and just everything was new and different, so that took a long while to adjust to. I also admittedly lost inspiration for this story (and writing in general) but today a miracle happened and I got my inspiration back
> 
> I'm not gonna promise that there will suddenly be weekly updates again but I will do my very best!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll hopefully see you again soon! Have a great evening ❤
> 
> Link to my [tumblr](http://wing--it.tumblr.com/)!


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